


Minor Tactical Error

by Nejinee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Arguing, Canon Divergence, Comedy, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 as Family (Naruto), Drinking, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Minor Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, POV Multiple, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sasuke & Kakashi dynamic, Sasuke is very smart but also very dumb, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: Iruka and Kakashi's antagonistic, pent-up working relationship finally comes to a head due to a tactical error on Kakashi's part. How inconvenient.Meanwhile Sasuke pretends he's a totally normal shinobi just trying to do his best while alsonotbeing disgustingly infatuated with his best friend.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 28
Kudos: 282





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is not canon-compliant in that a lot of people never died, Madara never happened, and Sasuke is home safe now, where he belongs :)  
> 

“Naruto,” Iruka sighed, “You’re going to choke. Slow down.”

“I can’t,” Naruto said, slurping back ramen like a vacuum. Iruka wondered if he was even chewing, going by the speed at which the noodles were disappearing into his mouth. “I’ve got training with Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke this evening. Gotta hurry.”

“Oh?” Iruka pulled out a perfect slice of pork from his own ramen and took a bite. _Mmm_ , Ichiraku really was the best ramen spot in all of Konoha, hands down. “You guys haven’t sparred in a while, huh?”

“Ugh,” Naruto burped and pushed the first bowl away before pulling in his regular second serving. “Not since Tsunade-baa-chan has me doing all her work for her!”

“I wouldn’t go around insulting our most exalted Hokage in public,” Iruka said with a smirk. “You know how her spies get around.”

“I hope they hear me,” Naruto blurted. He stared skyward, “I hope she knows I _hate_ paperwork! I hope she finds out how _sad_ it makes me! Every expense report I review knocks some shine off my winning smile!”

“Naruto,” Iruka hissed, “Enough with the _yelling._ ” Iruka wondered how many times over this lifetime he had yelled - and would continue to yell - that particular phrase at the blond megaphone of a boy beside him.

“Maa, Iruka-sensei,” Naruto pouted. “I can’t believe you do this stuff willingly.”

“What, take my favourite Hokage-to-be to dinner?”

“No, I mean I can’t believe you do filing, and _stamping,_ and allocating, and budgeting and all that bla-bla- _bla_ stuff all the time! I hate it.”

Iruka chuckled, “Well, it’s a job, Naruto. Plus, I like to know how things work and how to do them right. You knew you’d have to learn that stuff as well if you wanted to become Hokage. Do you think Tsunade-sama enjoys it?”

Naruto’s pout game was off the hook these days. He looked displeased and mulish and volatile all at once. Pity he had the face of an angel, which ruined the effect. “No, she hates it,” Naruto muttered like he was fifteen again. “She really hates it. I bet she makes me do it because she can’t anymore.”

“No,” Iruka tilted his head, “She’s making you learn the ins-and-outs of running a village of shinobi. Did you think it was going to be all monster-fighting and cool backflips the entire time?”

“ _No,”_ Naruto said in a voice that implied _yes, actually_ , _I did, and this is all just a real let-down overall_.

“Well, you can’t back out now,” Iruka said, swirling the ramen broth in his bowl. It was rich and smooth and fragrant; truly the most perfect dinner.

He liked that he was still able to do this with Naruto, if not for much longer. Give it another handful of years and Tsunade would be retiring, if not from age, then from brain-splitting anger after having endured enough bureaucratic bullshit. Iruka wasn’t sure Naruto was ready for the role just yet. He was still young, barely twenty, but hopefully the next few years would have him shape up into the great leader he dreamt of being; like his father before him. After all, Naruto liked to remind Iruka almost weekly: Minato-sama had become Hokage at twenty-three.

“I’m not backing out,” Naruto deflated. He slurped his noodles a little slower. The tail end of a noodle flicked broth onto his cheek. Iruka slid over a napkin. “I’m just annoyed, is all,” Naruto went on, taking the napkin and swiping at his face. “I wasn’t any good in school remember? I’m not much good at the accounting and financial forecasting stuff Shizune has me doing.”

“So you’re saying it’s tough,” Iruka said. “Well, anything worth doing usually is.”

Naruto pouted some more. He finished up his second bowl and pushed it away, his back straight. “I know,” he muttered. “But it’s boring. I just want to punch things.”

Iruka laughed, “Well, at least you’ll get to see Sasuke and Kakashi-san after this. That will cheer you up. You can punch them.”

“Yeah,” Naruto said slowly, “But I never get to see anyone anymore. I’m so busy. I want to see my friends again.”

“Hmm,” Iruka could resonate with that sentiment. “Another thing to work on, I guess.”

“You used to have a lot more advice, sensei,” Naruto grumbled, turning to quirk an eyebrow at Iruka.

“And you used to be small enough to carry. You’re not a kid anymore,” Iruka shrugged. “You want me to treat you like one?”

“Nah,” Naruto grinned. “I get it.”

Iruka pulled out his roll of money and peeled off a couple of bills. Naruto collected and stacked their bowls like the good, regular patron he was and got to his feet.

“Oof, I’m stuffed!” he crowed. “Thanks, Iruka-sensei.”

“My pleasure,” Iruka slid off his stool and followed the young man out into the early evening. The downtown plaza was still pretty busy, and the weather was just perfect; a great evening for a stroll.

“Western training grounds?” Iruka guessed.

“Nah,” Naruto swung his arms around, stretching out his muscles. “Kaka-sensei said he’s got stuff afterward, so we gotta keep to the East one.”

“Oh,” Iruka perked up, “I can walk that way with you.”

They chatted back and forth as they wove their way through the streets, Naruto regaling Iruka with the latest embarrassment that had befallen him in the Hokage tower.

“Oh, Naruto, I had a question about Sasuke,” Iruka said.

“Hm?” Naruto turned to look at him. He was getting so _tall_. Iruka sometimes missed the days of barking at a tiny Naruto about not running around with a handful of kunai in each fist.

“How is he doing?” Iruka said, voice low. “Is he… is he okay?”

“Yeah,” Naruto blinked, “He’s fine.”

“Okay, good,” Iruka nodded slowly. “I just… was wondering. I see him around town sometimes and it’s, well, it’s good to see him, I suppose.”

“Eh,” Naruto shrugged, “he’s Sasuke. He’ll be fine. He always is. You gotta have faith, I guess. He’s dumb, but he’ll settle.”

Iruka’s mouth twisted, “Is he making friends? Are people being nicer?” Nicer than when he’d returned, Iruka hoped.

“Well…” Naruto dragged out the word like he needed time to formulate an answer. “I mean. He’s _that_ guy, you know? He’s not super easy to get close to anyway. Even before he left he was a cranky bastard.”

“ _Naruto–”_

“Hey, hey, I’m being honest! He’s cranky and frank as fuck, but he’s Sasuke.” Naruto shrugged as if that were enough. Iruka knew what that meant. _He’s Sasuke, you gotta love him as-is; that’s the deal, or else._ Naruto would go to great lengths for his friends and those he saw as family. It was the one thing Iruka was most proud of him for; his capacity to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Iruka smiled, “If you say he’s good, then that’s fine by me.”

“He’s good,” Naruto repeated.

“I saw him in the admin building last week,” Iruka said. “He was talking to Inuzuka Hana.”

“Oh,” Naruto blinked at Iruka and knitted his fingers together behind his head. “Kiba’s sister?”

“That’s the one,” Iruka nodded. “Is…” he wasn’t sure how to ask such things about his former students. “Are Sasuke and Hana maybe…”

Naruto grinned slowly, his face brightening. “You asking if Sasuke is dating her? Why? ‘Cos you saw them _socializing_?” Naruto snickered evilly.

“Well,” Iruka looked up at the dark blue sky and sighed, “They seemed… familiar?” And it wasn’t the worst thing in the world if his students grew up and found families of their own, found love.

“Was Sasuke backed up to the wall, paying attention to her as if his life depended on it?” Naruto grinned even wider.

“Er…” Iruka frowned, recalling the scene. _Hm._ It had been a sight, seeing Sasuke standing ramrod straight - almost at attention - and nodding politely to a woman, a very confident, very attractive, strongly built woman who was an inch or two taller than him. “Yes? Maybe?”

“Haha!” Naruto cackled and clapped his hands together.

“What’s so funny?” Iruka frowned.

“Oh man,” Naruto hopped from foot-to-foot with glee. “No, sensei, they’re not dating.”

Iruka was missing something.

“I only assumed–“

“Yeah, I bet you did,” Naruto grinned, “Sasuke’s not dating Inuzuka Hana. I think _maybe_ she enjoys hitting on him but Kiba says she does it for the reactions and not for Sasuke’s, like, hand in marriage or whatever.”

“What?” Iruka was lost. Were the kids these days talking in riddles now?“Inuzuka Hana is a lovely young woman, Naruto. I don’t see why–“

“Sasuke’s not interested in her, not really,” Naruto said, shaking his index finger in the air. “But he is most _definitely_ scared of her. In the sexy way.”

“Naruto,” Iruka frowned harder, “Is Sasuke in a position where he doesn’t feel safe? Are–”

“No, no, no,” Naruto waved him off hastily. “Nothing like that. Iruka-sensei, I can’t believe I have to say this.” He grinned. “Sasuke-baka’s just very confused, like, always. He’s so smart and he’s also very, very stupid, you know?”

Iruka blinked. That series of words made no sense.

“I mean,” Naruto continued blithely, “Hana’s built like an elk. And she’s _so_ pretty, if you ask me, even if Sasuke isn’t, like, _interested_ in her, he’s most definitely had ideas about her crushing him. Like, in bed.” He made a smashing movement with both fists that had Iruka paling.

“Oh no,” Iruka whispered and covered his face. “Why did I ask? Naruto stop.”

“I bet she would just _destroy_ him,” Naruto cackled. “He’s so full of himself and he’s always blowing off all the other girls interested in him, but, like, Inuzuka _Hana_? Scary _and_ hot. Too much even for dumb Sasuke. He can’t ignore her, you know? She’s a _lot_ and now his hormones have finally come online I bet his dick is like ‘ _awooga’_ –oh, sensei? Hey, sensei, your face is all red.”

“I don’t want to hear about this anymore,” Iruka wailed. “You were all once innocent beansprouts! What happened? I should never have given that class on sex ed! It was step one into darkness for you all. My cherished little genin!”

“Oh, _sensei_ ,” Naruto patted Iruka on the back. “We all grew up. I’m sorry you missed that. It wasn’t great, though.”

“I blame that _bastard_ ,” Iruka ground out, running his palms down his face. “You’ve all been perverted.”

“You mean Kaka-sensei,” Naruto said after a moment as if he’d had to run through his catalogue of possible perverts which, well, were pretty thick on the ground. He considered that for a moment, then shrugged. “Eh. He didn’t _help_.”

As they walked, Naruto consoled a seething Iruka, reminding him that there was no way to go back in time. Their innocence was gone forever. This is how it had to be.

Iruka wished he’d never asked.

* * *

He’d never show it on his face, or even speak it into existence, but it was a fact at this point. Sasuke was nervous.

He was heading up the stairs to the upper deck of the bar, ready to hang out with his teammates (friends?) for an after-mission drink and catch-up.

It was weird, finding a note stuck to his door, telling him the time and place. It was even weirder to think that anyone wanted to see him, ever. He’d assumed that coming back to Konoha meant he would have to face the many burned bridges he’d left in his wake.

It had been months, almost a year, even, and things were actually kind of… okay. He’d been manning missions since the day he’d qualified for active duty. That was, of course, after weeks of intense interrogation and sit-down verbal and physical torture from all of the highest-ranking officials in the village. But he’d expected that part. He hadn’t expected a free pass back into shinobi, or even civilian life, without getting wrung dry. He’d divulged what he could, explained as much of his movements as he remembered from the past seven years. It had been a tough go, trying to convince the heads of the shinobi forces that he was no longer a vigilante intent on murder and mayhem.That broken kid who’d run away all those years ago was gone.

His footsteps echoed in the tight stairwell before the orange light from the upper deck leaked around the corner.

Once through the doorway, he glanced around the busy, loud, and bustling bar that was regularly visited by almost every active shinobi. It was close to headquarters and had a robust menu that was available 24/7. Seeing as not many ninja (himself included) had time to cook, it was a convenient spot to relax and have breakfast, lunch and dinner served hot and fast. So it was no wonder his teammates had called to meet here.

He looked around the bar, recognizing a handful of senior shinobi and a select few chuunin. Everybody had their friends group, he supposed.

“Oi, Uchiha!”

He perked up at the sound of his name. A hand waved over the crowd. He made his way toward it, weaving through the many tables and groups of shinobi relaxing after a long day’s work. A couple whispered as he passed, but he was used to that; Nothing new. He was a bastard outlaw who’d dragged his sorry ass home to be flagellated by the higher-ups. 

“There you go!” Kiba clapped and sat back down.

Sasuke would normally have taken the time to greet everyone (Lee, Neji, Shikamaru, Chouji, Kiba, and even Shino had made it) however, he was completely knocked off-kilter by the person sitting on the end of the small rectangular bar table; The reason for his nervousness. His breath caught up in his throat and his heart started to beat at an alarming pace. The hair on his neck bristled.

_Naruto._

No matter how many times he saw his former teammate, it was never enough. After years of separation and anger and mistrust, coming home and facing Naruto again had been like getting kicked in the gut by a mule.

He’d left Konoha a seething mess of a boy with only murder and revenge on his mind and no care for anyone else in his life. When he’d come back, he was faced with the bright, wondrous smile of a much older, taller, and alarmingly handsome version of Naruto who, apparently, made Sasuke’s heart go all aflutter.

It was the single most terrifying thing to ever happen to him and he’d faced men who could transform into snakes and spit poison. He hadn’t been prepared _whatsoever_. He could decapitate a man and wrestle a bear but feeling his guts get swoopy and his hands get sweaty around Naruto? _Horrible._

Every time he saw Naruto, it was like falling down a flight of stairs, losing his footing and, simultaneously, his mind.

“Hey, he’s here,” Shikamaru said drolly, his voice as dry and apathetic as ever.

Naruto looked up and immediately smiled from ear-to-ear. “Sasuke!” He smacked the tall stool beside him. “Timing! I saved you a seat. These vultures keep trying to steal it for their tables.”

The vultures in question must mean the other patrons because Sasuke couldn’t see any particular offenders eyeing the seat.

“Ah,” he nodded, trying to calm his heart just a little. “Thanks.” He exhaled slowly, trying to not make it so obvious that just being within a foot of Naruto was the highlight of his month.

“So, we’re all here. It’s been a long week, what’re you drinking?” Kiba tapped the edge of the table with the palm of his hand.

Sasuke picked up the laminated, tired-looking menu and glanced over the options. He eyed the drinks already on the table. “What’s that?” he pointed to the nuclear-green drink in front of Chouji.

“Lime and pineapple with white wine, I think?” Chouji frowned. “It’s great.”

“And that?” Sasuke pointed to Naruto’s massive round pink drink brimming with ice.

“It’s called a fishbowl,” Naruto leaned forward and sucked at the swirly straw that twirled out from the drink’s depths. He had to hold the drink with two hands it was so large. “It’s got rum and pink stuff and yellow bits of I dunno what!”

Sasuke sighed. That wasn’t very helpful. He wondered idly what it must have looked like the day each of these idiots had come of legal drinking age. Must have been a real shitshow for the bartenders in town.

“I’ll have a beer,” Sasuke murmured.

The waitress appeared out of nowhere. “A beer?” she blinked and smiled at him.

“Er, yes,” Sasuke said, putting distance between him and her megawatt smile. He scooted onto the seat next to Naruto. The arrangements were tight.

“Absolutely,” the waitress trilled. “Would you like any food to go with your beer?”

Was she blinking rapidly in code? Sasuke frowned. Did she need help? “Um… maybe in a bit.”

“All righty,” she chirped and spun on her heel, her hair flicking in a wide arc as she went.

“ _Really?_ ” Shikamaru said, arching a brow at him.

“What?” Sasuke asked, looking around the crowded table. “I’ll order food. Give me a second, I just got here.”

“Not the food,” Naruto laughed, bright and lit up like the sun. Sasuke tried not to stare.

“You’ve been here, like, _ten seconds_ and half the people here are already salivating, Uchiha,” Kiba grumbled.

“It’s a nice change,” Shino murmured. He was wearing standard uniform blacks this evening which was very off-brand. The guy was notoriously stiff about social outings. Sasuke admired how he got away with it. Nobody nagged Shino to participate in shit the way they did with Sasuke. To reach that level of not giving a fuck? Aspirational.

“How’s this a change?” Kiba griped.

“Well, it’s usually Neji that gets all the attention, isn’t it?” Chouji chuckled.

Sasuke looked at the Hyuuga. He definitely didn’t understand _that_ logic. Neji was uptight in completely new and indefinable ways that drove Sasuke up the wall. He was full of shit, was arrogant as hell, and talked about his bloodline limit like it mattered anymore what family any of them came from. Unfortunately, Neji was also a highly competent asset to any of Sasuke’s most recent missions - which was annoying.

“What can I say?” Neji swirled his own beer and smiled that smug smile of his. Sasuke had had moments where he imagined punching Neji’s teeth out.

“It’s the hair,” Naruto sighed. “Neji’s got that long stupid hair that all the girls love. All glossy and swishy.” He mimed combing long hair down his front, like some fairytale princess. Maybe this was why Sasuke hated Neji.

Chouji chuckled.

“Very true,” Lee nodded, sucking at his juice because of course, Lee didn’t drink alcohol. His body was a temple, or whatever. _Sasuke’s_ body, however, was getting further away from temple status by the day. After years of deprivation, he’d decided to let himself just enjoy shit for once. This included alcohol, ice-cream, copious amounts of deep-fried dough, and, on occasion, some illicit smoking materials Shikamaru had on hand. Getting high with friends was a wholly new experience Sasuke hadn’t expected but did enjoy immensely.

“You pretty boys put the rest of us at a disadvantage,” Kiba griped.

“You’re pretty!” Naruto said loudly and grinned. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, dog-boy.”

“Tch,” Kiba drank his beer with a scowl furrowing his brow. “I know my worth, Uzumaki. I’m just pissed I gotta watch women fawn all over Uchiha every time we hang out.”

Sasuke made a face. He didn’t understand what they were talking about. Any attention he received from women was usually rebuffed. He wasn’t interested, and as far as he was concerned, whatever attention he got was wasted. Kiba could have it all.

“You can try harder,” Neji leaned forward in his seat to eye Kiba. “It’s not just about looks.”

“True,” Chouji nodded. “Romance is about more. It’s long looks and deep conversations.”

“And sexual prowess,” Shino added monotonously. Shikamaru spewed his drink and almost choked on his laughter. Naruto patted his back while snorting back chuckles. Sasuke handed over a couple of napkins to wipe the table with.

“It’s true,” Shino said, his voice deep and calm. “A sexual partner who can succeed in pleasing others is well worth revisiting.”

“Shino, shut up!” Kiba yelled. “You have the worst dirty talk, man. When’s the last time you got laid anyway?”

Shino shrugged, ever silent about personal matters.

“Last week, wasn’t it?” Shikamaru drawled.

“What?” Kiba yelped. He spun on Shikamaru. “Who? When?”

“I’m just guessing,” Shikamaru said. He pointed at Shino. “Saw you with a certain long-haired kunoichi .”

Shino swirled his own drink and didn’t respond.

“Don’t pry,” Chouji sighed. “You know Shino never kisses and tells.”

“Unlike some people,” Neji nudged Kiba.

“Eurgh, shut up like you’re any better Hyuuga,” Kiba swigged his own beer.

“Can’t believe Shino’s the ladies’ man,” Naruto laughed. “Of all of us, it’s mister super secrecy over there.”

“Yeah, what about you, Naruto?” Kiba piped up. “When’s the last time you got a hook-up, huh?”

Sasuke tried not to bristle at the thought. He was just trying to fit in with this group and not look like a complete outsider. Talking about Naruto having sex with _anyone_ was far beyond Sasuke’s mental capabilities. He’d had one too many hot and steamy moments in the shower these last few weeks that had sprung from the guys regaling him with stories from the years he’d missed in Konoha. How dare Naruto have a sexual history and how dare the rest of them give Sasuke the details. It sounded like all of them going through puberty together had somehow bonded these morons in ways Sasuke would never understand. The openness, the frankness about sex and relationships and arguments and embarrassing moments was something he’d need to accept. These idiots shared _everything._

Where were the moronic genin he’d left behind? Hell, what was it about _him_ that felt so at odds with them all becoming sexually mature men of the world?

The waitress reappeared with his beer and the table got rowdy while trying to order their food.

“We don’t have room on the table,” Kiba cried at Chouji’s oversized order.

“It’s fine,” Shikamaru waved a hand. “Chouji eats it fast.”

“Can you bring his order first?” Neji asked the waitress. She smiled at him and nodded before turning to Sasuke and Naruto. Her eyes were practically _glowing,_ boring right into Sasuke’s soul. It felt like Sasuke was under a spotlight. “And for you?” she said.

“Oyakodon, biggest bowl you have,” Sasuke said. She blinked. She waited. Sasuke glanced around the table. “Please?” he added carefully.

“And I’ll have the short ribs!” Naruto chirped loudly. “With a side of the tangy broccoli.”

The waitress took that down, eyed Sasuke a moment longer, then turned to go.

Sasuke turned to Naruto. “What? No ramen?”

Naruto snorted, “I don’t have ramen for _every_ meal, Sasuke.”

“Just breakfast and lunch every day,” Shikamaru muttered.

“And since when do you eat green things?” Sasuke shifted in his seat. The bar was getting busier, people squeezing behind him to get through the crowd. It was a decent excuse to scoot in closer to Naruto.

“Ehhh…” Naruto folded his arms and pouted. “It’s part of my health regimen,” he muttered. “Iruka-sensei and Tsunade-baa-chan make me eat vegetables now.”

“It’s good for you,” Lee nodded. “I consume seventy-five percent greenery in every meal. Gai-sensei has always said a man’s diet must be a representation of how he sees his future: healthy and whole!”

“Ehhh,” Naruto deflated a little. “It’s annoying but yeah. I can’t be a great leader if I’m not strong and stuffed with nutrients.”

“How’s training going, by the way?” Neji asked. “You haven’t been on any missions, right?”

“No,” Naruto sighed wistfully. “I’m still working desk duty with Shizune. It’s terrible, guys. Really terrible. I don’t have a brain for this paperwork stuff. They make me do numbers. _Numbers_!”

“You wanted to become Hokage,” Shikamaru chuckled. “You have to pay the consequences. Running a village ain’t that easy.”

“Next thing you’ll be working the Mission Desk,” Chouji added. “Won’t _that_ be fun?”

Naruto sat up straighter, “Hey, I’d love that! I’ve never even seen the Mission Desk. Sucks that genin can’t hand in reports and all of that. I always wanted to hand in a successful report to Iruka-sensei. That’d make him proud, you know?”

Sasuke blinked, trying to process that. “Wait–“ he said lowly.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Uzumaki?” Kiba said.

“Yeah, what?” Neji said.

Naruto’s face froze mid-word, “What? I want to see Iruka-sensei?”

“How have you never been to the Mission Desk?” Shikamaru frowned.

“That’s not possible,” Kiba said. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those lazy bastards who hates doing that stuff.”

“What?” Naruto looked around the table. “Genin can’t hand in reports. Kakashi-sensei told us that when we first joined his team!” He turned to blink at Sasuke. “Right, Sasuke? Tell them.”

Sasuke’s mouth flapped in confusion. “I–er, I mean, yeah, he said that–“

“ _What?_ ” Kiba cried.

“–But you didn’t _believe_ him, did you, dobe?” Sasuke frowned, his brain still processing. “But wait, what do you mea–“

“He said it!” Naruto’s face was getting pink, meaning he was ramping up to an Uzumaki trademark outburst. “Kaka-sensei! He said only chuunin and jounin can report in! That’s fact!”

Sasuke thought he was going crazy. His mind was swirling as he looked between the men at the table. Were _none_ of them going to comment on–

Kiba snorted and started laughing like this was the greatest joke he’d ever heard. “Are you _serious?”_

“Neji, I’m right, right?” Naruto pouted.

“No,” even Neji was smiling now. “That is…uh, patently untrue, my friend.”

Sasuke wished he had laser beams coming out of his eyes so he could slice Neji’s head off for being so familiar with Naruto.

“Naruto,” Chouji said solemnly, trying to hold back a laugh, “Anyone can hand in reports to the Mission Desk. Why would they limit that? How have you missed this?”

“But–“ Naruto looked around the table. “–but I’ve _never_. Kakashi-sensei always reported in for us. Ask Sakura.”

“That’s so cruel,” Shikamaru laughed and leaned back in his seat contemplatively. “Admirably cruel. I should take notes.”

“Your sensei is really like that, huh, Naruto-kun?” Shino rumbled.

“Wait, back the _fuck up,_ ” Sasuke blurted, hands up. He turned to face Naruto properly. ”What do you mean by _‘genin’_?” his voice was strained.

“Huh?” Naruto blinked at him owlishly. It was very cute. “What?”

“I get that you somehow were dumb enough to believe that bastard’s stupid lie, but he said chuunin and jounin only. What the _fuck._ How has that stopped you from reporting _now?_ ”

Naruto blinked again. He had very long eyelashes that framed his blue eyes perfectly. “Uh…” he said slowly. “Because I’m a genin?”

Sasuke stared at him.

_What._

“What?” he croaked.

“Oh, Uchiha,” Kiba said gravely, “You don’t know? Naruto never made chuunin.”

“Hey,” Naruto made a face, “It’s not ‘cos I ain’t good enough. I’ve just never been around when the exams were happening.”

“True,” Lee nodded. “Your training with Jiraiya-sama took you very far from Konoha.”

“The chuunin exams change villages every two years,” Shikamaru intoned drily. “It’s back this year to Konoha. Your excuses suck.”

“You’re still a genin?” Sasuke whispered. He’d been sparring with Naruto on and off since he got back. There was no way this guy wasn’t one of the most powerful shinobi to ever be born in Konoha. “I don’t … _really?_ ”

“Yeah,” Naruto grinned. “What are levels anyway? Nothing more than segregationist ideology, I say.”

“Um, or a means to make a living?” Shikamaru said.

“Well, Uchiha, you never took the chuunin exam again, did you?” Kiba said, sipping on his beer.

“Uh, no,” Sasuke said. He shrugged. “Wasn’t…erm, on the plan.”

The men all nodded slowly. They didn’t ask often about what had happened to him; Not after the initial interrogations. He would always answer the questions they had, though he had an inkling that his responses came across as unsettling.

His history was a mess of bad decisions and bad planning.

“So you’re both genin,” Neji said.

“Whatever,” Naruto flapped a hand through the air. “It’s fine. I’ll become Hokage anyway. No one’s gonna stop me.”

Sasuke took a long sip of his beer as this new information sank in. So he _and_ Naruto shared something like this. It wasn’t _great_ , but it wasn’t so bad either.

* * *

Iruka finished counting the application documents, making sure every student had been accounted for. He still had a couple more minutes before the genin prep meeting began.

“Izumo, can you start on that end?” he asked, holding out half of the stack to his colleague.

“Absolutely,” Izumo grinned and took up the batch. “You’re so organized, Iruka. It’s great.”

“Well, someone has to be,” Iruka sighed. He walked down the first row of lined up desks and put down a folder, one after the other, labels facing up. It was his job as the new Vice Principal to manage the planning for the newly-graduated genin teams. It was a ton of work and he wasn’t about to let his first go at it fall apart.

As he moved down the line, the conference room door opened.

“Ah, we’re early,” came a voice.

“Grab a seat,” Izumo said. Footsteps indicated more than one person had entered. Iruka counted out his folders until he reached the far end of the third row. He looked back across the room to see how it all came together.

“Perfect,” he murmured and went back to the front presentation desk where he and the other officials would be sitting.

The jounin had started to file in.

He watched them all grab seats that were laid out near the front desk, the folder-stacked desks taking up the back end of the large room. He’d tried his best to streamline this process, having seen how the program worked every year before. It had needed fixing and Iruka had taken the job on with gusto.

“Iruka-sensei,” one of the jounin nodded as he passed.

“Oh, you’re signed up this year, Yamato-kun?” he said.

The man with the metal forehead and cheek plate smile and tilted his head. “I’ve had a taste of what it’s like. Thought I’d really go the whole hog this time.”

“Mmm,” Iruka grinned. _I’ll bet_ , he thought, recalling how Yamato had fared looking after Sakura, Naruto, and Sai. That must have been the harshest of awakenings for any jounin-sensei in training.

He nodded to more familiar faces. Some of them were regulars like Asuma and Kurenai, experts on genin team training, while others were fresh-faced and eager to give this a go for the first time.

“God, they’re getting younger,” Izumo muttered as he came to stand with Iruka. “It’s weird being older than the jounin-sensei right?”

“Yeah,” Iruka sighed. The clock showed it was time to begin.

Iruka squinted at the jounin sitting in front of him. They had all signed up to become genin team trainers. This year was a bit of an anomaly, having almost double the number of graduates compared to previous years. Iruka was glad to see so many shinobi volunteering for the job.

Except there was one missing body.

Iruka sighed and tapped his foot. _Trust that bastard to be late for his own meeting._

Technically, the taichou had to oversee any jounin meetings like this, but the man was, as always, nowhere to be seen.

“Has anyone crossed paths lately with your esteemed leader, perhaps?” Iruka asked the room, all of whom he was familiar with.

“He might still be in with the Godaime,” Kurenai suggested.

“Even though we’ve had this meeting in his calendar for four months?” Iruka said.

“Calendar?” Asuma chuckled, “You think he knows what that is?”

“His assistant should,” Izumo said.

“Maa, how rude.”

Iruka looked up to find the man in question loping into the conference room.

“Rude you’re late or rude we were talking about you?” Iruka said irately.

A couple of the younger jounin glanced at one another, aghast. Maybe they dared not talk to Kakashi this way and hadn’t seen Iruka and Kakashi go at it.

“Hmm,” Kakashi walked around the array of desks, taking his time before reaching Iruka and Izumo. “Both?”

“Whatever,” Iruka huffed. He flattened a sheet of paper against Kakashi’s chest. “Here’s your checklist. Let’s get cracking, we’ve only got a few hours to finish up, _Hatake-taichou_.”

“Ah, you’re so mean to me, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi said and took the third seat behind the large desk.

Iruka had prepared for this for weeks, so he was able to run through the logistics of how and when the genin-teams would get grouped.

“We’ve laid out all graduating students’ info sheets for you to review.” He said to the room. “All their focused abilities and grading should be listed in their folders. You will all be given the chance to review each student and determine who you think would be best placed under your care.”

Kakashi cleared his throat. Iruka eyed him. Kakashi waved him on. Iruka knew it was unkind to want to scratch someone’s eyes out for no apparent reason, but the thought remained.

“I have taken the liberty of setting up starter-groups of three, based on academy experience and knowing the relationships between the students. One thing to note, we have two pairs of siblings this year, one being a set of twins. We may need to review how that will work, considering familial connections don’t necessarily require same-sensei training.”

Iruka went on to explain the system for signing up for a genin team and the practicalities of choosing wisely.

“Each student has put forward their ideal jutsu specialties, things they’d like to focus on. Highly suggest you take that into account.”

“Alternatively,” Kakashi cut in. “Should you see a reason for a student to focus elsewhere, or not focus at all, that is also an option.”

Iruka glanced at the man. He couldn’t very well override the jounin General but it was annoying regardless.

“Some of you have trained your own genin teams, so you know how this works,” Iruka went on. “For the new folks, please feel free to ask Izumo, Kakashi-san, and me for input, should you have questions.”

The group got to their feet once Izumo explained the lineup. Iruka walked past each person, handing out the own sign-up sheets.

The room bustled with activity as the shinobi all moved to the folder-laden tables and began reading the stats given on each student. It was going to take time for everyone to get a good look and take notes, but it was the best place to start.

Iruka leaned against the front of the presentation desk and watched the jounin work their way through the task at hand.

“You did a lot of planning, sensei.”

Iruka jumped. Kakashi had come to lean on the desk as well, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle.

“Well, if we don’t plan, it could be a mess,” Iruka said. He tried not to let it show how Kakashi’s proximity was giving him goosebumps. He’d gotten very good at hiding his responses.

“You think we’ve got enough good teams here?” Kakashi murmured.

“Hopefully,” Iruka sighed. “We might end up with a couple of two-set teams but that’s something we’ll figure out on the tail end.”

They watched as the jounin talked amongst themselves, trading input on the student pages they were reading.

“Do you remember when Naruto was up for this?” Iruka asked, trying to make polite conversation with a man who reveled in awkward silences. “Worst day of my life.”

“Really?” Kakashi raised a brow at that. “ _Worst_ day?”

“Well, I didn’t know what to think, him getting paired up with you,” Iruka said sharply.

“Me?” Kakashi blinked. “What’s wrong with _me_ , sensei?”

“Well, for starters, you’d never had a genin team up to that point. How could I trust you to know what to do?”

Kakashi tilted his head. “True.”

“And it didn’t look like you particularly wanted a genin team.”

Again, a head tilt. “I didn’t really have much of a choice,” Kakashi murmured.

“I was like, what if he teaches them to kill each other?” Iruka said. “And Sasuke and Naruto had such a bad history, to begin with!”

“They turned out okay,” Kakashi said.

Iruka looked at him and arched a brow, “They turned out fine; eventually. But not because they took the easy route.”

“I’ll give you that,” Kakashi conceded, his voice a low rumble.

They watched the room bustle for a few minutes. It was weird to find himself with Kakashi of all people, commiserating about their former students. It was certainly the one thing - probably the only thing - that they shared.

“Although,” Kakashi said, “I _did_ actually train them to kill each other anyway. It was my job.”

Iruka scowled. “Teamwork was your job.”

“That and murderous killing,” Kakashi said. “This is why I am their jounin sensei, _sensei_. You only get one.”

“And I’m just their academy teacher,” Iruka said, looking away.

“Exactly.” Kakashi sounded like he was smiling.

Damn, he was so _annoying_.

Izumo approached them with a jounin in tow. “Iruka, Kakashi-san, Keiko has a question.”

“Hm?” Kakashi hummed while Iruka leaned forward.

“This student,” Keiko adjusted her glasses, “Looks promising. But I was wondering if I could question his choice to focus on taijutsu when he is physically disabled.”

Kakashi leaned close into Iruka’s side to read the student’s paperwork. No doubt he’d already read everything, considering Iruka had hand-delivered all the student applications _weeks ago_ \- so why he had to lean in _that_ close was baffling.

“Ah, so Shuma has a prosthetic leg,” Iruka nodded. “He wants to focus on taijutsu because he hopes it will compensate for his lack of mobility.”

“But if he struggles already with physicality, surely genjutsu would be a better focus?” Keiko said. “I myself have spent my whole career using genjutsu that could help him. But I’m unsure if pushing a student in that direction is worth the effort.”

“Well, he’s not assigned to you yet,” Iruka murmured, “but you do have a point. The goal here is to match up jounin to students they can train to the best of their abilities.”

“So if I train him, genjutsu could become his focus?” Keiko asked.

“It could,” Iruka nodded.

“However,” Kakashi said, his voice low, cutting through theirs. The three of them glanced his way. “It is not your place as a trainer to alleviate a student’s pressure.”

Iruka frowned.

“Your job,” Kakashi said to the jounin, “Is to work them all into fit fighting shape. Every facet of their abilities has to be flexed and snapped and rebuilt because they need to become strong and dangerous - and without cracks. If a physical disability bars a shinobi from work, then he is not fit for the job.”

Iruka frowned, seeing young Shuma’s face in his mind. He was sweet and had a fiery spirit, and he was an excellent student. “Kakashi-san, forgive me, but I don’t think you can speak to Shuma’s abilities just yet.”

“Be that as it may,” Kakashi said, “If the boy cannot master his body then what use is he to Konoha?”

“That’s not fair,” Iruka huffed, feeling his hackles rise. “Shuma asked to focus on taijutsu so he could improve his mobility, his balance so that his disability _wouldn’t_ hamper him.”

“But why focus him on taijutsu which he may never perfect it and genjutsu might be the real answer to his problems?” Keiko said.

“That,” Kakashi raised his hand and pointed his index finger at her, “Is your problem as jounin-sensei, Keiko-san. You want to train your own genin team? You train every aspect. Focusing on what you are best at will not help if any of your students have separate specialties.”

Keiko blushed and nodded quickly, “Of course, Kakashi-taichou. I understand.”

“You’re not getting one perfect kid to mould,” he said drily. “You’re getting three soldiers. You adapt and you teach _them_ to adapt or maybe this isn’t something you should be doing at all.”

Iruka swallowed.

“Understood,” Keiko bowed quickly. “I will reevaluate my objectives, sir.” And she turned, taking Shuma’s folder back with her.

Izumo raised both brows and followed her.

“Well,” Iruka exhaled softly. “I don’t know what happened there.”

“I do enjoy scaring the recruits,” Kakashi sighed, sounding languid and pleased with himself. Iruka looked at him with a skeptical eye.

“You’re a real piece of work.”

Kakashi smiled, his eye curving. “As are you, sensei.”

Iruka frowned to cover up his real feelings. “It’s not a compliment.”

“Oh, my heart,” Kakashi murmured. He sat forward, slouching over. “You wound me so.”

“Psh,” Iruka huffed.

“At least we’re one step closer to a new set of genin and eventually a new set of chuunin,” Kakashi murmured. “All thanks to your excellent work.”

Iruka was silent, still chewing on Kakashi’s words. He turned to glare at him. “You don’t know that Shuma’s disability hampers him. How can you say he’d somehow be a liability?”

“I didn’t say anyone was a liability,” Kakashi said slowly.

“So many shinobi have crippling injuries and most can get the job done just fine. You can’t exclude him just beca–“

“Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi’s voice was soft, so soft in fact, it surprised Iruka into shutting up. “That speech was for Keiko. I don’t want any of my jounin going into this thinking these kids are toys to play with. I’m certain that if Shuma graduated under your tutelage, he must be good enough to fulfill genin-level missions.”

Iruka’s mouth flapped for a moment.

“I don’t care how a ninja’s body works,” Kakashi sighed. “So long as it gets us completed missions.”

“Uh,” Iruka nodded sharply. “Right.”

“Besides,” Kakashi sat up straighter and twisted around, stretching his arms out. “Isn’t one of these graduates a kid who licks rocks?”

“Spits rocks, actually,” Iruka sighed.

“We’re working with what we have, sensei,” Kakashi chuckled.

“Yeah, I suppose we are.”

* * *

“We’re the oldest people here,” Sasuke grumbled.

“No!” Naruto nudged him with an elbow. “Look, there’s Yamato-sensei and Kurenai-sensei.”

The two of them were standing against the back wall of the hall where the genin team allocations were happening.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Sasuke said. “I mean we’re the oldest genin here.”

Naruto looked at him and shrugged, “Yeah. What we gonna do about it?”

In the face of that comment, Sasuke had no answer, so he just exhaled and let it go. “Why’d Kakashi invite us to this anyway?” he folded his arms and slumped further into his vest. Both he and Naruto had flak jackets not because they’d earned them, but because they looked weird without them at official events. Sasuke’s was still shiny smooth while Naruto’s was more worn in.

“I dunno,” Naruto sniffed, watching the rabble of kids gathering in the centre of the room. “I think I have to pay attention for my Hokage training.”

“Then why the fuck am I here?” Sasuke griped. He was hungry and he hadn’t slept well the night before.

“It’s okay,” Naruto dipped his shoulder and pressed into Sasuke with his entire weight. “Maybe it’s to keep you occupied, but not too busy, mister always-on-missions-don’t-try-to-talk-to-me.”

Sasuke _had_ been on a ton of missions lately. His paycheques were rolling in fast and furious these days.

“Sai!” Naruto yelled, making Sasuke wince. “Over here! Sakura-chan!”

The two in question had just arrived and made their way through the room of loud, boisterous children.

“Naruto, Sasuke!” Sakura smiled, “Were we ever this small?”

“Never!” Naruto laughed.

“You were the shortest in our graduating class,” Sasuke said.

“Baka,” Naruto kicked at his shin, which Sasuke dodged easily.

“Phew,” Sakura came to stand with them, her bright pink hair swinging. “It’s crazy to see this from the side of the adults.”

“You all graduated together?” Sai said, his voice monotonous as ever.

“Yeah,” Naruto said. “Man, we were so young.”

“And so stupid,” Sakura sighed.

“Yep,” Sasuke added.

“Even you?” Sai looked at him.

“Sasuke was dumb as shit,” Naruto said, which earned him a smack upside the head. Naruto laughed and caught Sasuke’s wrist, twisting.

“Don’t–“ Sasuke growled and shifted around to flip Naruto.

“Please don’t start wrestling here!” Sakura said loudly. “You complete barbarians.”

Sasuke had Naruto in a knot between his arms and the two of them were hissing insults, trying to drag the other to the floor first.

“Oi,” a sharp voice cut in. “Stop embarrassing me.”

“Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura said sharply. “You’re late.”

“Music to my ears,” Kakashi tilted his head to the side and came to a halt next to Sasuke.

“Yamato-sensei,” Sai bowed slightly.

“Hey kids,” the jounin, Yamato, smiled.

Sasuke released Naruto and dusted himself off hastily.

“I don’t think we’ve formally met,” Yamato stretched out his hand.

“Uchiha Sasuke,” Sasuke murmured, taking the man’s hand and shaking. He wiped his hair out of his eyes.

“You’ve never met?” Sakura looked gobsmacked. “How is that possible?”

Yamato smiled genially.

“Yamato-sensei covered for Kakashi-sensei for a while,” Naruto said.

Sasuke knew _exactly_ who Yamato was. He was bristling with curiosity, just dying to ask the man about everything he could do. He knew Yamato was former ANBU and that he was the only person on earth who could use Senju Hashirama’s trademark _Wood Release kekkei genkai_ , a specialty jutsu that had been lost to history. Sasuke remembered reading about it when they did history in school. Senju Hashirama was one of those men from the past who intrigued Sasuke, made Sasuke want to become a legend himself.

To be meeting the man who could use the First Hokage’s signature technique was an _honour_.

“Very happy to meet you, Yamato-san,” Sasuke said respectfully. Sakura and Naruto made faces at one another.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Uchiha,” Yamato said mildly.

“All of it bad, yeah,” Sasuke took a step back and dipped his head.

“Not at all,” Yamato chuckled.

“You said you had questions,” Kakashi said, looking down at Sasuke. “Well, I got him here.”

“Well, I mean,” Sasuke faltered, caught unawares. Had Kakashi set up this meeting just for him?

“Tenzou-kun will be manning his own genin team this year,” Kakashi went on. “Best learn what you can from him before he gets buried under his newfound duties.”

“Ah, Kakashi-senpai is exaggerating,” Yamato said. “I’m always around for questions.”

 _Senpai?_ Sasuke blinked, internalizing that one honorific. Kakashi was Yamato’s senpai? _How?_

Sasuke didn’t have any senpais. It was either sensei or work superiors all the way up. He’d never, not once in his life ever heard anyone refer to Kakashi as a senpai. He’d assumed Kakashi hadn’t ever forged those kinds of bonds, being the lone wolf that he was.

Huh.

“Yamato-sensei,” Naruto leaned forward, “If you get a genin team does that mean you won’t go on missions with us anymore?”

“Says the guy who only works admin for Tsunade-sama,” Sakura said under her breath.

“I don’t know,” Yamato shrugged. “We’ll see. I think the genin might take up more time, yes.”

“You can leave Yamato-sensei alone,” Kakashi said tiredly. “He’s got better things to do than babysit you four.”

“If you ever do have time,” Sasuke cleared his throat, “I’d like to hear about how you learned the Shodaime’s techniques; how the seals differ from standard wood manipulations jutsu. Like, how long you have to hold it and how the jutsu releases through the wood afterward. Does it hold its shape or pull back? Very interesting…your jutsu…er, sir.”

The others stared at him.

“I can do that,” Yamato laughed. “No one ever asks, if I’m honest. Everyone still thinks I’m some kind of reanimated zombie.” He patted Sasuke on the shoulder. “Well, aren’t you refreshing, Sasuke-kun?”

“Oh, I have questions too!” Naruto wailed, making everyone hiss at him to keep it down. He curled back with a pout.

“What questions, Naruto-kun?” Yamato sighed and put both hands on his hips. He appeared to be very used to handling Naruto. “Come on, out with them before the ceremony begins.”

“Eh,” Naruto scratched his chin.”Well, I always wondered. If you manipulate the trees and flowers and stuff… doesn’t it hurt?”

Yamato frowned. “What now?”

“Er,” Naruto’s eyes flicked to Sasuke. “Do… do trees have feelings?”

Sasuke’s eyes closed automatically from secondhand embarrassment.

“Dobe…”

“Naruto, _seriously_?” Sakura trilled.

“What, I’m asking questions! I’m smart too!”

“Disagree. That is a very stupid question,” Sai said.

“Ugh,” Sasuke rubbed a hand over his eyes as fondness wrapped around him. Why did this idiot make him feel this way when he was so absolutely idiotic? How could Sasuke feel so angry at Naruto while simultaneously want to hug him to death?

“So _he’s_ your best friend.”

Sasuke looked up at Kakashi’s voice. His sensei tilted his head in Naruto’s direction. “That one? You sure?”

“Ugh,” Sasuke grunted, watching Naruto argue his point loudly and with a lot of arm-waggling. “Don’t remind me. I know.” He never said he made great life choices.

—

The ceremony was faster than Sasuke remembered. He watched the jounin get paired up with their fresh-faced genin graduates. He couldn’t recall how he’d felt when he’d been assigned Kakashi. There was some kind of anger memory around Kakashi having the Sharingan, something a Hatake should not have had at all, but other than that, young Sasuke had still been all-consumed by his revenge aesthetic. Once the ceremony was complete and all kids had been accounted for, the whole group of noisy ninjabroke apart to mingle loudly.

Sasuke hated this part of official events. He was expected to make nice with others when he really just wanted to eat everything in sight and then go lie down with his food coma. He was contemplating sneaking out when things got interesting.

One aspect of Sasuke’s _‘new life, new ninja’_ plan was that he’d decided he wouldn’t avoid asking questions. Before he’d been reticent to look uncool but nowadays that got thrown out with the kitchen sink in the face of just learning shit he wanted to know.

So when he found himself in a semi-circle of elite jounin, Sakura at his side, he wouldn’t let the opportunity drop. Namiashi Raidou and Yamato were amongst the group and Sasuke was all but salivating at having these two elites in his immediate bubble. They were two of the coolest people he’d ever heard of. Namiashi with his katana work and Yamato as the blood-bastard of the Shodaime? Shinobi excellence.

Namiashi was one of the tokujou Sasuke had yet to work with, though he’d heard the man was one of the best in the field of subterfuge and infiltration, having dedicated much of his career to guarding the Sandaime and now Godaime. Sasuke really hoped that soon he’d get the chance to pick the man’s brains on his notorious kenjutsu assassination techniques. They were legendary in the field. Sasuke had developed an unhealthy obsession with sword work since his time with Orochimaru - something he didn’t necessarily hide but was careful enough to keep under the rippling surface of his terrible reputation.

The group was arguing about the catering at the event, about how sushi wasn’t appropriate canapé food when Sasuke just blurted out what was on top of his mind.

“Namiashi-san,” he said perhaps a little too loudly, judging by the way everyone looked at him. Sasuke cleared his throat. “I saw you training in the Eastern Grounds last week. I’m surprised at how late you employ your katana, considering your abilities.”

The group was silent. Sasuke could see Kakashi-sensei at the snacks table, talking to Iruka-sensei. Iruka looked annoyed as heck. Kakashi had that effect on people.

“Er, okay?” Namiashi-san said with a quirk of an eyebrow. “You got input, kid?”

“Are you taking a genin team this year?” Sasuke said.

“Uh,” Namiashi-san glanced at Yamato beside him. “No? I’m here as more moral support, really. I got enough to do.”

“As security for the Godaime,” Sasuke said.

“Sasuke what are you doing?” Sakura whispered into his ear.

“Yeah,” Namiashi-san said. He rubbed at his jaw, the side where the burn scar stretched from his neck and up over his cheek and eye, and across his nose. It wasn’t anything unique, having such scarring. Sasuke had found out it came from Namiashi’s early years, back before he’d taken on the Hokage security detail job. An explosion Sasuke had heard. “Tsunade-sama keeps us on our toes,” Namiashi said.

“I see,” Sasuke felt Sakura pinching his arm and he jabbed at her with his elbow. He glanced down at her.

Sakura was making a crazy face at him. “Come with me,” she snipped and immediately dragged him away from the group like he was some dog on a leash.

“What?” he hissed, using his full weight to try to slow her down. _Damn,_ but she was strong these days!

“You’re acting like a creeper,” Sakura whispered.

“Tch,” Sasuke brushed her off.

Nobody understood. He was done with social niceties if it meant he got to ask questions of the elite shinobi around him. Sasuke was going to get better by listening and learning this time. No more shortcuts, no more trying to cut corners and affiliating with evil to get the job done.

"I'm just asking questions," he said.

"No," Sakura hissed, "You're asking invasive questions about the doings of one of the Hokage's most senior security detail shinobi. You don't think that's weird?"

"I'm not plotting anything, you crazy witch," Sasuke said. He earned a smack on the head for that. 

"Don't embarrass me," Sakura said, eyes flashing. _"Some_ of us actually work for the Godaime, you know. Some of us have goals that aren't just about playing with the sharpest toys in the village."

"You want to be a bureaucrat?" Sasuke snorted. "That's way more embarrassing than me trying to talk to literal Leaf legends."

"Oh my god, I swear if you have some weird fetish for swordplay and murder, I'm giving you back to Ibiki."

Sasuke stuck out his tongue at her. She was ridiculous. "I do what I want, Sakura." That got him another smack upside the head.

"You want to impress the senpais?" she leaned in close, "Then maybe learn to dodge."

* * *

They were out celebrating Kotetsu’s promotion and Iruka had actually made time to partake in the revelry for once. Most of their fellow teachers had gone home already, leaving just Kotetsu and Izumo with Iruka. They’d been having so much fun just relaxing for once, letting go of the day’s rigours and now Kotetsu was poking Iruka again. He _always_ did this when Iruka drank a little too much.

“C’mon you gotta have something nice to say about him.” Kotetsu leaned in across the table.

“No, that would be impossible,” Iruka said, slurring his S’s. “Impozzible.”

“But he’s not bad!” Izumo grinned, then hiccupped. They’d been at the bar for a good many hours and the empty beer glasses were piling up around them. Iruka wondered if their colleagues had paid their tabs. “He’s a good guy, Iruka. I don’t know why you have such a hate-boner for the man.”

“It’s not a boner,” Iruka scowled, perturbed by the mere thought. “It’s a distaste… thing.”

“You think Kakashi is some terrible bastard or something?” Kotetsu said, swigging back more beer. He had always been so much better at holding his alcohol than either of his two friends. It was unfair.

“Well, I mean, he’s not perfect,” Iruka said haughtily. He sat back and curled his arm over the back of the empty chair beside him.

His friends looked at one another. “Well, he’s damn _near_ perfect,” Kotetsu said with a grin, “If we’re going by shinobi standards.” He started counting on his fingers. “One thousand jutsus, legendary assassin, knows more moves than the gods themselves, is also the youngest shinobi-taichou in generations.”

“Popular with the ladies,” Izumo nodded.

“I have my own standards,” Iruka said.

“But you like _everyone_ ,” Kotetsu frowned, obviously amused by this. “You’re the man with a million second chances. Why this one lone guy? What did he do? Steal your girlfriend? Kick your dog?”

“No,” Iruka frowned, “He’s … he’s just so full of himself.”

Izumo chuckled, “I’d be full of myself if I was as good a ninja as he is. Can’t lie.”

“Same,” Kotetsu nodded.

“You guys don’t get it,” Iruka sighed dramatically. The bar was still pretty busy at 2 am. That’s what happens when the ninja populace doesn’t work normal nine-to-five hours. He lowered his voice. “He’s not perfect. He’s… he’s just okay. Everyone overrates him.”

“Well,” Kotetsu tilted his head, considering. “He’s got a pretty solid reputation.”

“Tell me a good thing about him,” Izumo pressed. “You’re the nicest guy in the village, you always have good things to say about everyone. You want us to believe you think Kakashi’s some grade-A asshole? I don’t believe it.”

“How ‘bout I tell you a list of bad things instead?” Iruka snorted. “Like how his hair is dumb.”

“Nope,” Izumo sat back and folded his arms. He was listing a little into Kotetsu’s side. “Good things only. You teach your students to be better people, right? You gotta follow through. Practice what you preach, sensei.”

“Mlergh,” Iruka curled forward, his head swimming. He bumped his forehead on his forearm. His brain felt like it weighed a ton. He sat up, hoping his neck could handle it. The world spun a little. “Fine,” he frowned and waved his hand in a circle. “He has a nice ass.”

Kotetsu and Izumo blinked. Izumo opened his mouth to say something, then paused.

“I know, I _know,_ it’s an easy target,” Iruka scowled and sat up straighter. He went to tighten his hair tie. The elastic squeaked; probably on its last legs. “Yes, he has a nice ass, but nothing else! Nothing else! He’s arrogant and obnoxious, and he thinks he’s hot stuff all the time, swaggering around like he’s got nowhere to be. And he plays pranks like an idiot, like a _child_. Naruto tells me all the stupid rules he’s made up for them. Like how Tuesdays are the holy days for penitence and internal reflection. He said that! To _Naruto_ , who now thinks he can’t bother that bastard on Tuesdays because he thinks Kakashi’s out at temple or something when he’s really just kicking around somewhere, reading porn in public.”

Kotetsu glanced at Izumo. “So…” he said slowly, “He’s got a nice ass. That’s it.”

“That’s _all!_ ” Iruka sliced his hands through the air in finality. “But also, he’s got long legs. Which again, _not fair_ , because some of us are more torso than legs. Bet he just wastes them by lolling around like a degenerate.”

“Uh-huh,” Izumo chuckled and leaned into Kotetsu properly, settling in as if for a show. “We should have asked your opinion on him long ago.”

“You’re right,” Iruka slurred, “You should have. I know things. I know so _much._ ”

“What else do you know, Iruka?” Kotetsu asked. “Nice ass and long legs. What else?”

“Well,” Iruka rolled his eyes upward, which only made the room swirl some more. Gosh, but he felt woozy, but in a good, happy way. He should get out more, drink more with his friends. He just never had the time these days, what with the transition prep work needed to get from academy teacher to Vice-Principal. And he needed to rack up more hours at the Mission Desk to fill his monthly quota if he wanted to retain his benefits. He was just too busy to relax and unwind regularly.

“His voice is okay, I guess,” he conceded.

“His voice,” Kotetsu murmured.

“Yeah,” Iruka sucked back some more beer. It sloshed around his lips, causing him to lick them before speaking. “He never says much, which is probably arrogance again, but at least he can cover it up with that voice.”

Izumo chuckled. “You sure you really hate the guy?”

Iruka frowned, “Yes. He’s terrible.”

“What if I told you he just arrived,” Izumo quirked his chin upward, causing Iruka to spin in his chair and look toward the stairway entrance to the bar.

“Ugh,” he growled. Kakashi had indeed made an appearance, Maito Gai at his side. “What’s he doing here?”

“This _is_ the public alehouse,” Kotetsu said into his beer. Like it mattered.

“Hmf,” Iruka huffed, watching as Kakashi leaned against the bar and ordered rat poison, or whatever it was he liked to drink. Orange juice mixed with day-old coffee, probably.

He always looked so _loose_ , so lazy, leaning on his elbow like that, his long, _long_ legs angled out, one knee bent, the tip of one foot propped against the floor. He stood up when his and Gai’s drinks arrived. Oof, he was lanky. It made Iruka so _mad._

“You’re staring,” Kotetsu said, which caused Iruka to spin about in his seat.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, buddy, you were.”

Iruka shifted in his seat. He pressed his hands to his hitai-ate, pretending to straighten it.

“Maybe you don’t hate him as much as you say you do, Iruka _-chan_ ,” Izumo cackled.

“Don’t call me that,” Iruka huffed. He pulled his beer in again and took a long swig. It was so hot in the bar, wasn’t it?

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Kotetsu leaned in and pulled his glass away. “Not so fast.”

“How come you don’t get wasted anymore, ‘Tetsu?” Iruka whined. “You used to be fun.”

“I am buzzed, kind of,” Kotetsu laughed. Izumo was almost in his lap, so close was he. Iruka bit back the feeling of mild jealousy he had whenever he saw how happy his childhood friends were together. “Besides, someone’s gotta make sure you two get home safe.”

“You live together,” Iruka said drily.

“And he lives next door,” Izumo slurred into Kotetsu’s neck.

“All right, you know what,” Kotetsu put his hands up, “you two are a handful already without getting so shitfaced you can’t stand up straight. I’m not carrying you home,” Kotetsu pushed Izumo upright.

“Again,” Izumo added.

“Yeah, _again_ ,” Kotetsu eyed Iruka. “C’mon, sensei, it’s late.”

“But I don’t have work tomorrow,” Iruka whined, “you used to be fun.”

“We are fun,” Kotetsu laughed, “It’s you who’s always busy working.”

“Yeah,” Iruka deflated. “ _I_ used to be fun. Now I’m boring and old and lame and I’m going to die alone in my empty apartment and no one will even notice until my decaying corpse alerts the neighbourhood cats.”

“Oh, wow,” Izumo stood up shakily, his hands flat to the table. “He’s getting depressive. Definitely had his fill tonight.”

“It’s true though,” Iruka patted his flak jacket, looking for some cash. Kotetsu was already throwing some money onto the table. “I used to get out, have fun, party it up. I even used to date! Remember?”

“Oh boy, do we,” Kotetsu said, getting to his feet. “I don’t really miss the days of us finding random people strewn over your apartment.”

Iruka pouted. “You make me sound like a… like a–“ he faltered, lost.

“Like a slut, yes,” Izumo said.

“Hey,” Kotetsu elbowed Izumo.

“Ugh,” Iruka threw down a couple of bills, hoping it was enough to cover his portion - math was not an option at this hour - and got to his feet. The world swayed a little, but it wasn’t too bad. He’d had worse drunken stupors to walk home with.

“Ah, here,” Kotetsu waved someone over. Their waiter appeared with two glasses of water. “You both drink these and I’ll heave your sorry asses home.”

Iruka did as he was told, always good about replacing the moisture-draining alcohol with buckets of fluids. Once his glass was empty, he inhaled loudly. The bar sounded louder around him, still bustling, still alive. Clearer, perhaps.

“I’m gonna sleep in tomorrow,” he said loudly.

“Yeah, yeah, move,” Izumo pushed at him. “You’re blocking the way.”

The three of them meandered toward the exit. Iruka waved at Kurenai and Asuma, who looked perfectly sweet sitting at their own table, all romantic-like.

“Disgusting,” he muttered through his teeth.

“What was that?” Izumo said loudly from right behind him.

The walkway to the exit was a little stuffy with warm bodies. “Nothing,” Iruka twisted to say. “I was just–“

He stumbled so suddenly that not even his honed shinobi senses could have saved him in time. The floor rushed up at him as he yelped. Were it not for the person who grabbed his arms, he would have smashed his nose into one of the metal barstool footrests that lined the counter.

“Iruka-sensei! Be careful, my friend!”

Iruka was manhandled upright, his head rocking atop his neck. He blinked. “Oh, Gai. Er, hello.”

The man with the roundest, shiniest bowl cut grinned at him like Iruka was his most favourite person on earth. “You have imbibed quite a bit, haven’t you, sensei? Understandable for one who is responsible for the maintenance of our village’s youth! A strenuous career requires vigorous libation!”

“Er,” Iruka blinked, still bunched up between Gai’s huge meat slab hands.

“You wanna let him down?” Kotetsu murmured. “You scared him sober, Gai.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Gai said and laughed loudly. Iruka was released and gravity pulled his body back together as he settled onto his shaky feet.

He was about to thank Gai for his help, when he looked to the man standing–no, _leaning_ against the bar to Gai’s right, and Iruka felt his throat close up.

Kakashi had turned his body to see what the commotion was about and blinked at Iruka like seeing a full-grown man faceplant in public was just an everyday occurrence.

With only one eye visible and 70% of his face covered, it still struck Iruka just how much he could read in that one glance.

Kakashi looked him up and down, then got to his feet languidly. Iruka blushed. He couldn’t handle that look.“Sensei,” Kakashi said slowly, tilting his head in greeting.

“Er–“ Iruka rubbed a hand over his own hair, reaching for his ponytail. He pretended to tighten the elastic. “Kakashi-san.”

Iruka felt hot all over. Was it apparent he was turning the approximate colour of a beet? Why was he like this? How dare his body betray him this way! It was just Kakashi! Except, of course, that was too simple an explanation. Kakashi wasn’t _just_ some random shinobi.

The look that passed between them felt strained but also, maybe because Iruka was a sappy, lovelorn, pathetic mess, it felt heated.

“We gotta go,” Kotetsu poked at Iruka’s back. “I should get these lushes into bed.”

Iruka twisted and scowled at his friend of twenty-plus years. “I’m not a _lush.”_

“Uh-huh,” Kotetsu smiled amiably like he wasn’t some shit-disturber. “Come on, get moving.” He saluted the jounin. “Gai, thanks for saving his pretty face. We all know he needs it. Can’t get by on brains alone in this economy.”

“My pleasure,” Gai grinned. “You look after yourself, Iruka-sensei! Don’t trip on anything else on your way home.”

“Don’t break that pretty face, sensei,” Kakashi murmured lowly.

Iruka wanted to _die_.

As Kotetsu shuffled them past, Iruka made the desperately stupid attempt to get one last look at Kakashi and was met with what appeared to be an amused curve to the jounin’s eye.

_Damnit!_

This was going to be one of those embarrassing lying-awake-at-4am-wishing-he-was-dead shame-inducing memories, wasn’t it?

He added this to the list of reasons _not_ to have a social life.

* * *

Getting to shower after a three-week mission was one of the best things about coming home. Sasuke had finally been able to scratch the grit out from under his nails and get the dried blood out of his hair. He hated to admit that Sakura was right, but he really was a bit of a freak when it came to his personal hygiene. He felt human again, something that was worth looking forward to at the end of every mission. It was a simple pleasure, a nicety he could revel in now that he had Konoha to call home once again.

He’d spent so many years just roaming between the countries that bordered the Land of Fire, homeless and high-strung and constantly on edge that having the opportunity to just _come down_ from a mission was truly a blessing and a half.

After getting dressed and putting away his weapons, he packed up the mission scrolls from his unit in a satchel and headed out. He looked around the empty apartment and smiled. It was small but it was _his_ and he never took for granted the ability to just activate his locking seal and not much else when leaving, because for once he wasn’t hiding anything, he wasn’t bothered about coming back to anything. He’d had nothing before and this wasn’t comparable to _that_. He didn’t have anything of any value aside from his literal life, so it didn’t matter if anyone ever thought to rob him. He didn’t care. He was a free man, a working shinobi, and he was taking his second chance with both hands and never letting go.

He ran to the main operations building that adjoined the Hokage tower, skimming the rooftops of a bustling, busy Konoha.

Once there, he made his way to the mission office and got in line with all the other shinobi reporting in. It was early evening and a pretty busy time for check-ins, most shinobi leaving their reporting to the last minute.

A couple of ninja did double-takes at seeing him in line. Having Sasuke back had been difficult for a lot of Konoha shinobi to swallow. He got it, he understood. Who was he to ask for clemency? He’d done unthinkable acts, had defected, and had plotted against Konoha before coming back. He was basically the worst example of a shinobi, the kind they’ll put on posters and point to in elementary school history classes. _Don’t be this guy. Do better._

Sasuke didn’t mind the odd looks. He’d been back almost ten months. Not everyone was going to welcome him with open arms; very few had originally.He was a walking black mark upon the history of the village; his entire clan was. The Uchiha were all but wiped out and nobody complained about it.

However, as much as his history was stained, Sasuke was determined to prove himself a better person, a better shinobi. He’d been broken into so many disparate pieces that gluing it all back together wouldn’t–couldn’t–happen overnight. It was going to take time, but he _would_ do it.

If Sasuke wanted to go berserk, he could. If he wanted to learn a new genjutsu, no one could stop him. If he wanted to alienate the rest of Konoha to ensure they stayed away, then by damn he would exceed expectations. He wasn’t known for much, but he did at least have excellent follow-through.

The line moved quickly because for once the Mission Desk was fully manned. All five check-in seats were occupied and the room was bustling with noise, the standing shinobi restless as always.

Sasuke, knowing more about how the system worked, was impressed with the check-in rate. This many reports meant a ton of missions had been executed this last week. That was not just money in the pockets of the ninja, but money in the pockets of Konoha. He was learning a lot more these days about how the financial stability of the government would (hopefully) lead to better living conditions for the villagers. More import/export options would be available to a village with more money and better resources could be funnelled into the village, thereby ensuring the longevity of not only the civilian population but the industry of the shinobi. Sasuke pondered what his life could have been had he not gone the shinobi route. What would he be? A construction worker? An engineer? Building bridges? He barely understood the basics of mathematics as it was. No, it was good he was suited to a life of spying and assassination; less civilian deaths from his collapsed bridges.

The desk on the far end opened up and Sasuke moved up. He unpacked the six mission scrolls his team had left in his care and laid them on the desk.

“Sasuke-kun, how are you?”

“Good,” he said, then blinked. “Oh, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka smiled and took the pile of scrolls from him. He noted the seals and signatures on each before reading through the reports.

Hyuuga’s was neatest, of course, and Kiba’s was an absolute mess of scrawling spidery writing. Shikamaru’s was bare-boned and minimal. Chouji’s was straightforward and Lee’s was much the same, though he embellished his with a lot of curlicues and swashes.

“Here’s the final report,” Sasuke said, tapping his own scroll. “Mission successful, no casualties. Intel acquired and accounted for.”

Iruka eyed the lock seal on the scroll and nodded. “How was the Village of Snow?”

“Cold,” Sasuke said.

“No one ever has anything else to say about that,” Iruka sighed and unsealed the scroll with a flicker of hand seals. Sasuke waited while Iruka read over the details and marked down any pertinent facts for filing on his own reporting form. The scroll itself would be resealed and put into secret storage for I&T to parse, but the reports that were filed needed to still update whoever was reading them about the mission results.

Sasuke eyed the many sealed drawers that sat behind the long mission desk. He knew the reports were filed by importance, he just wasn’t sure who saw what reports, assuming the Godaime didn’t read _all_ of them. That would be ridiculous. Sasuke watched Iruka work. How did one get selected for Mission Desk duty anyway? Sasuke had no idea. Iruka-sensei had just _always_ been doing it, as far back as he could recall.

“All right,” Iruka sighed and sat upright. He stamped his report and turned the paper towards Sasuke. “Sign here.”

Sasuke did as he was asked, impressed at the way Iruka had filtered down the details of the mission into bite-sized chunks. He handed the sheet back and Iruka signed it as well. The stamp glowed orange for a second, confirming the chakra signatures matched the ink signatures.

“Perfect,” Iruka smiled and turned to file the sheet in one of many mysteriously unlabeled drawers. He scooped up the mission scrolls and slid them into the hole that presumably led to a chute whirled down to some poor schlub’s desk in the bowels of the building. Sasuke would _kill_ to know the details of how all this worked, but the last time he’d seen a genin innocently ask about it, it hadn’t panned out well. If there was one thing every professional Leaf shinobi understood it was: _do not fuck around with the Mission Desk_ ; especially Iruka-sensei. He might look kind and sweet as pie, but he could eviscerate you with words long before he thought to draw a weapon.

“Job well done, you’re free to go, Sasuke-kun,” Iruka knitted his fingers together and smiled. “Oh, also, when you see Naruto, let him know I still have his laundry. He needs to come pick it up.”

Sasuke blinked. He swallowed. “Uh, okay.”

“I mean, _if_ you see him,” Iruka went on. “He’s not on a mission right now.”

Right.

“I’ll … yes, I’ll tell him,” Sasuke muttered awkwardly. “If I see him.”

Iruka had been one of the few Konoha shinobi who had decided to give Sasuke a real second chance. Sasuke hadn’t expected it, hadn’t even thought of it really, but Iruka’s word was really worth something in the eyes of a lot of shinobi. Sasuke was sure that Iruka’s ability to see past the monstrous kid and see the young man who’d come back to Konoha broken and burned by his own foolish actions, was one of many reasons why Sasuke’s integration back into Konoha society hadn’t been as troublesome as it could have been. Sasuke had a lot to atone for, and he would, by hell he would, but he couldn’t force people to accept him. It was people like Iruka, who had known him as a child, who had empathetic personalities a mile wide, who made room for outcasts like him.

Sasuke would never forget that.

* * *

“Well, well, well.”

Sasuke looked up from his greasy lunch and was mildly surprised to see his sensei approaching. Kakashi gave a slow glance around the busy bar and came in to lean his elbow on the tall table Sasuke was perched at. “You alone?” he murmured.

Sasuke nodded and finished chewing before answering. “Shikamaru went to the Mission Desk this time.”

“Mn,” Kakashi hummed and eyed the crumbs on the other two plates next to Sasuke’s sandwich. “Hungry?” He correctly assumed Sasuke was taking his lunch alone.

Sasuke shrugged, “Always.”

Kakashi had been in meetings all week with the Godaime and this was the first time in at least nine days that Sasuke had seen his sensei face-to-face.

“How’d the mission to Suna go?” Kakashi asked. “I heard there were wasps.”

“Yeah,” Sasuke frowned, “Lots. Had to outrun them because we couldn’t stop them.”

Kakashi was definitely smirking under his mask. “Really? Hm. Next spar session I’ll show you what to do about bugs.”

“I was going to ask Aburame,” Sasuke said plainly.

“Or that,” Kakashi conceded. He tapped his index finger on the table. Sasuke stared. He wondered if this was a coincidence. Kakashi-sensei had a way of conveniently locating people while appearing to be lost on the road of life.

“You need something, sensei?” Sasuke asked, biting into his fried chicken sandwich.

Kakashi again looked around, seeming bored. “Maa, we might have some missions coming down the pipe,” he turned to look at Sasuke. “If you’re free. You can get some rest. Nothing until the morning.”

Sasuke nodded, chewing with a full mouth. He grabbed a napkin and wiped at the grease sticking to his fingertips. Because Team 7 was basically disbanded, Sasuke saw less and less of his teammates these days. He wondered if Kakashi missed those days of Team 7 running around together, causing havoc, the same way Sasuke did.

“Hm,” Kakashi sighed. He leaned both elbows on the table. Sasuke didn’t understand why his sensei never sat down, or even tried to appear relaxed in public when everybody already knew he was one of the laziest bastards around.

“Want me to–“ Sasuke swallowed awkwardly and coughed, choking a little. Kakashi arched his visible eyebrow. “–want me to get the others? Let them know?” Sasuke tapped his fist against his sternum to try to clear the blockage.

Kakashi tilted his head, “No. It’s just you this time.”

“Oh,” Sasuke blinked and tried not to feel the dip in his mood. He’d hoped yet again that Kakashi would find the need to pull in Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto for _something_ \- but Sasuke was still working his way back into everyone’s good graces. He knew he was lucky to be working at all and not just locked up in the prison quarters underground, but still. 

“It’s only a C-rank,” Kakashi said. “No need for many other bodies.” He stood a little taller, his slouch morphing from one of indolent recline into something more aware.

Sasuke pushed his plates away and sat back in his own chair. He was about to ask for details on the mission parameters when voices echoed out of the stairwell close by. Sasuke had hit his lunch hour a little late and so when he’d arrived at the bar, the only available empty table was near the stairwell exit. It was noisy as hell with shinobi coming and going, but at least he got some space to himself. No one here welcomed him to sit with them at any rate.

The voices were attached to Iruka-sensei - a familiar face - and Namiashi Raidou. 

“Oh, Genma got us a table,” Iruka-sensei was saying. Then he saw Sasuke and his eyes lit up.

“Sasuke-kun,” Iruka grinned, “You’re back from Suna. I’m glad to hear it went well.” He must have received the mission report then.

“Iruka, it's creepy that you know about everyone's missions,” Namiashi-san sighed.

Sasuke’s former Academy sensei noticed who was with Sasuke and paused before saying, “Kakashi-san,” probably out of respect. His smile was a little tight around the edges.

Kakashi twisted lazily and held up the first two fingers on one hand. “Sensei. Namiashi.”

“Oh, Hatake,” Namiashi said, “You back with Godaime at three, yeah? She’s still mad about your last meeting. Thanks for that.” He said this with a wry smile as they passed by.

“My pleasure,” Kakashi said drily.

Iruka didn’t seem too bothered by Kakashi’s flippant way of greeting him. Maybe he’d given up (much like Sakura had) on Kakashi developing proper societal behaviour.

Sasuke sipped his still-full beer, his eyes on his esteemed jounin sensei. Something was up.

Kakashi hadn’t turned fully, but as Iruka and Namiashi walked away, chatting amiably as friends do, Sasuke didn’t miss the way Kakashi’s head was tilted in their direction like he wasn’t listening, but also, absolutely was. One had to be familiar with the man’s behaviour patterns to notice something so small. Kakashi wasn’t even looking their way or betraying any real interest, but Sasuke could tell.

He put his beer down with a _clonk_ on the table.

Kakashi flicked his gaze toward Sasuke.

“Oh. My. God,” Sasuke said, eyes widening, back straight, brows heading upward. He pressed his palms to the tabletop.

“What?” Kakashi said drolly.

“ _Iruka_ -sensei?” Sasuke leaned forward with a hiss. “ _Seriously?_ ”

Kakashi didn’t cover up his scowl fast enough. He stood up to his full height.

“Holy _crap_ ,” Sasuke laughed, gleeful for once. “You’ve got a thing for _Iruka-sensei?_ My _academy_ teacher?” Sasuke could feel the grin creeping across his face like an attacking army. “Oh, wow. This is – just _wow.”_

“Don’t be stupid,” Kakashi grunted. “It’s a bad look.”

“Oh, _I_ look stupid? Hah!” Sasuke grinned so wide his cheeks ached. “I cannot believe _you_ of all people. _You_. This is hilarious! How long? Weeks? Months? _Years?_ ”

“You know, maybe you _do_ need a suicide mission. You seem bored if making up stories in your head is your go-to daytime activity.” Kakashi said airily,“Maybe S-rank. Maybe in the gaseous poison marshes most famous for killing shinobi at twenty paces,” Kakashi said with that bored tone he always used as if it would throw Sasuke off the scent.

“I’ve got you,” Sasuke pointed a finger at Kakashi, his eyes flashing. “You gave yourself away. I expected better, sensei.”

Kakashi rolled his eye and stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “I don’t have the time for whatever this is, Sasuke-kun.” He waved Sasuke off, then turned on his heel and headed towards the bar, as if Sasuke hadn’t just figured out his dumbest, most hilarious, most damning secret ever.

“I’m not the one who looks stupid!” Sasuke yelled, making nearby shinobi glance over. How strange it must seem to see a junior yelling at the famed Hatake Kakashi. “Unbelievable,” Sasuke cackled to himself and grabbed his beer for another deep swig. “Ahhh, and today was shaping up to be so _shitty_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come!


	2. Chapter 2

For once Sasuke had come out of an in-mission altercation with only a black eye, a bruised ego, and no broken bones. Kakashi, however, had no such luck this time.

“You shouldn’t have taken six on by yourself,” Sasuke said, ripping at the sticky bandage with his teeth before taping down the gauze on Kakashi’s back. “Even for you, that was stupid.”

His sensei was sitting on the damp ground, bent forward, his shirt pulled up almost to his nape just so Sasuke could get at his wounds. “I appreciate the input, but shut up,” Kakashi said, sounding tired.

“Hmm,” Sasuke huffed and inspected the other wound just under Kakashi’s shoulder blade. He pulled out the small antiseptic bottle from one of his flak jacket pouches and sprayed the cut liberally. Kakashi didn’t wince at all when Sasuke definitely would have. This was Sakura’s latest formula and it stung like a _bitch._ “This one needs stitches.”

“Of course,” Kakashi sighed.

“Bet you wish Haruno was with us on this one,” Sasuke said. He, historically, wasn’t known for his excellent medical ninjutsu skills.

“Sakura has better things to do,” came a dry voice from above.

Sasuke scowled as Sai dropped onto the ground in front of them. This guy drove Sasuke up the _wall_. The fact Sasuke was expected to play nice with the pretty boy who had replaced him (and turned out to be feeding information to ROOT all along before defecting) made his teeth grind. At least _he’d_ had the common decency to be an asshole _outside_ of Konoha.

Sai dusted off his hands, “The three survivors are incapacitated and I’ve dispatched a message to the perimeter scouts. We should expect them within the hour.”

Kakashi grunted and sat up straighter. Sai came closer and peered over Kakashi’s shoulder where he sat, eyeing the bloody mess left over from two kunai slashes and an explosive tag. “Hmm, that’s not looking very clean.”

“Back off,” Sasuke grunted and got to his feet. “It’s clean. Best we can do until medics arrive.”

“You need to learn more medical jutsu,” Sai said, his dark eyes deadpan, staring into Sasuke’s own.

“You do too,” Sasuke rebutted. “I don’t see you whipping out any chakra-healing scrolls.”

Sai blinked. He was so creepy sometimes, like a doll. Sakura insisted Sasuke would get used to him, but Sasuke couldn’t see _how_. “I certainly hope Kakashi-sensei hasn’t gotten organ damage,” Sai said calmly. “Lower intestinal leakage is very dangerous on top of being a foul way to die.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Sasuke said. He stood up and put his antiseptic spray away. He was angry at the mere thought that his sensei would get anything as bad as a kunai to the kidney. That was never an option. “Nothing major got hit.”

“You’re not a doctor,” Sai said, twisting on his heel and walking to face the soon-to-be-rising sun that was filtering through the mist.

“And you’re a pain in my ass,” Sasuke said.

“Stop,” Kakashi sighed.

“Kakashi-sensei never gets injured on missions,” Sai said, turning back to eye Sasuke.

“Statistically impossible,” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“I said. Shut. Up.” Kakashi said, clearly wishing he could get up and drop-kick them into the sun. “I need you both to start writing your mental reports on this incident.” He sounded fine, not laboured or struggling to stay awake, so that was reassuring. “Sai, go stand watch until the perimeter guards show up. You set the traps?”

“Yes, Kakashi-sensei,” Sai said, then bowed slightly, like a good little soldier. Man, ROOT really must have beaten that formality into him early.

Sasuke watched Sai leap into a tree and head out east. He walked out in the direction Sai had gone, then paused. No chakra signatures as far as he could tell. He dimmed his Sharingan and rubbed at his eyes before turning to look at his sensei.

“You good, old man?”

Kakashi could convey so much distaste with only one eye visible. It was something Sasuke aspired to, really. “This was supposed to be an easy mission. You recall that?” Kakashi said. “C-rank.”

Sasuke nodded. So their mission had gone a little sideways. It happened. He walked back over and crouched down to Kakashi’s eye-level. “Your feelings hurt ‘cos you got stabbed?”

Kakashi snorted. “You think I’m sitting here because I can’t beat your ass, kid?”

“No,” Sasuke said honestly. Kakashi wouldn’t ever lessen his vigilance just because he got hurt. Hell, the man could still kill ten shinobi on a broken leg with both eyes closed. “You’re too good to be truly lazy. On mission anyway.”

“Hn,” Kakashi sat up and gingerly pulled his shirt down before dragging his flak jacket over his shoulders.

The woods were quiet, only just coming to life. “We get back in time and you might be able to sneak in a senior nap before check-in,” Sasuke murmured.

Kakashi huffed out a laugh. “You think I’m that old, huh?”

Sasuke looked his sensei over. Kakashi looked fine, really. Not about to keel over anytime soon. “How many times you been stabbed in the back?” Sasuke asked. “Apart from the obvious.” He waved a hand in front of himself. The metaphorical stab in the back Sasuke had dealt was something he brought up a lot. Sasuke was a shit for leaving Konoha, he knew that and he didn’t want to hide that from anyone.

Kakashi stared at him. “You’re talking a lot today. Slept well, I guess.”

Sasuke shrugged. He’d always struggled with it, but making small talk seemed appropriate at this moment. He never used to let on that his curiosity about his sensei had always been an overbearing thirst he wanted to quench. Everyone had questions about Kakashi. He was the enigma, the legend, the greatest Konoha shinobi since the Fourth Hokage himself. Sasuke knew that there were flee-on-sight orders attached to Kakashi in most of the bingo books. Once, he’d had the joy of _seeing_ recognition flicker over a rogue Mist-nin’s face when she spotted Kakashi. All the blood had rushed from her face and the speed at which she fled? _Magnificent._ Sasuke hoped that one day he too could instil a sense of fear so strong in his opponents that governments ordered their shinobi to flee on sight. _That_ was power. People shat themselves when they came face-to-face with _the_ Sharingan Kakashi. He knew having Kakashi as his mentor was a blessing Sasuke probably hadn’t ever deserved. Still didn’t deserve.

“Everyone gets one free backstab at some point,” Kakashi sighed. “You wait for your turn. It’ll come.”

“Even Gai-sensei?” Sasuke let his hands dangle in front of him, his elbows balanced on his crouched knees.

“Oh, yeah,” Kakashi said. “The green jumpsuit collection has grown over the years not just because of age, but because of cuts that couldn’t be sewn up.”

Sasuke stared into Kakashi’s grey eye. “Iruka-sensei has a massive scar on his back, you know–from the fuuma shuriken incident,” Sasuke watched his sensei’s face for a reaction.

“I would assume so,” Kakashi said drily.

“You must have all heard about that when it happened,” Sasuke said. He’d only been twelve at the time but Naruto had wailed for weeks about the injury Iruka had sustained when saving his life.

“It made the rounds,” Kakashi said slowly. Considering fuuma shuriken were banned in Konoha, it must have caused quite a stir among the shinobi ranks.

“He got hit right along the spine, though,” Sasuke went on. “Naruto went on about the healing sessions Iruka-sensei had to go through. Something about nerve damage and spinal column reconstruction. Fractured, I heard.”

“Uh-huh.” Kakashi looked like he would have preferred to be anywhere else but there.

“You should ask him about it,” Sasuke said, deadpan.

Kakashi blinked slowly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Sasuke said as innocently as he could. He wasn’t good at playing innocent; no experience.

Kakashi didn’t fall for shit. “Whatever this is, kill it with fire,” he rumbled.

“I’m sure he’d tell you all about it, though,” Sasuke muttered. “He’s really chatty.”

“You may be the last of your line, but I swear, I have zero reasons not to murder you and scatter your remains between here and the village,” Kakashi said this in the most tired voice like he couldn’t be assed enough to put any energy into it.

Sasuke smiled slowly. “You know, I thought your wounds might actually kill you this time, “ he said. “But you’re going to be _fine,_ sensei. _”_

* * *

Kakashi had slipped up.

It happened on occasion, once in a blue moon. Usually when the stakes were too low to matter. Like when he’d commented on the smell of alcohol permeating the Hokage weekly debrief, and Tsunade had kicked him through a wall. Another time he’d been out in the field and fell into a boar pit because he’d ignored his ninken’s warning about student animal traps. The wooden spear stab between the ribs had healed weird. Now he had an unsightly scar to show for his stupidity. Mind you, he had a lot of scars, but at least the rest were earned in battle. That’s what happens when you relax when you let your guard down; you loosen up the boundaries of your personal safety zone and then get stabbed in the back.

Sometimes it was your own damn students who acted like boar spears, lying hidden in wait before putting you in painfully uncomfortable situations you could have avoided had you simply not _relaxed._

And now Sasuke had pointed out what was, in all appearances, nothing more than a passing interest in a certain academy sensei. Weak spots had to get taped up and plugged.

Sasuke had to die.

Or maybe shut up in some interesting, amusing way that Kakashi could preserve forever in his memory vault.

It wasn’t strange to eye the passing figure of a fellow shinobi. Kakashi had a wandering eye just like every other post-pubescent person on the planet. Iruka hadn’t always been on his radar, not even when he’d put his life in jeopardy trying to stop a madman from killing the twelve-year-old jinchuuriki _his_ own sensei had died to protect. Of all the people to stand out that day, who would have guessed the no-name academy teacher was the man?

It had taken time for Iruka’s blip on his radar to get brighter and more frequent.

See, the thing is, Naruto was always on track to come under Kakashi’s tutelage. That line of progression had been mapped out years before Kakashi got his first genin team. It also was not a coincidence that Uchiha Sasuke ended up with him as well. Yeah, give the nine-tailed jinchuuriki and the last Uchiha to Kakashi to mentor. What could go wrong?

And now the consequences of Kakashi’s actions were coming back to bite him in the ass. He should never have agreed to train up those two asshole children whom he’d grown fond of. Of course, there also was Sakura; a gift, she was. She offset Naruto and Sasuke’s crazy with her brains and passion just enough to even out the scales. He’d unfortunately bonded with the brats under his care and now one of them had to die for using his own tactics against him. Kakashi regretted being such an excellent sensei. Why was he _so_ good at his job?

And somehow through all those years of training, and fighting and mission after mission, that blasted academy sensei had been on the periphery, doing his damn best to make sure all the kids of Konoha didn’t turn out fucked up and inside out.

It was really distractingly _nice_. Pleasant, even.

What was Kakashi supposed to do? _Ignore_ Iruka? He couldn’t really be held responsible for the fact that Iruka had warm brown eyes and a very pretty mouth to go along with that strong, unrelenting moral code of his. That was out of anyone’s control. Kakashi was weak, _okay,_ for strong moral codes. Nice faces and pert behinds were all well and good until a person shows up with the intent of _never backing down so fuck off, Hatake-san._

Kakashi hated that their every interaction was something he looked forward to, even planned for. He took great pleasure out of pissing Iruka off and making him rage out every month or so in their process integration meetings. The man had an _infamous_ temper. He would turn a fetching shade of explosive red whenever Kakashi questioned his desire to protect the kids he no longer had any say over. He would sputter and flail his arms when Kakashi was flippant about genin safety protocols and he clearly wanted to punch Kakashi every time he suggested dropping students off in Sunagakure’s burning desert - shoeless and without rations - as a form of ‘on-the-ground training blitzes’.

Iruka was fun to play with but that was all. That’s all it had to be. Kakashi had zero intentions with him. Kakashi didn’t do _intent_ , least of all with the man who knew half of Konoha by dint of having mentored most of the children funnelled through the academy. Every shinobi coming up the ranks knew Iruka and either adored him fiercely or was terrified of him.

Kakashi wandered through central Konoha, sipping on an apple juice box he’d swiped from his most recent HR advisory control meeting. They were already planning for the next chuunin exam and Iruka-sensei was leading the charge, as he should. It had been ages since the Academy had had such a passionate VP running the show. The principal must feel such immense relief every time Iruka volunteered for every activity that needed strength-testing and perfecting.

Even if Kakashi had an interest in pursuing Iruka, what was the point? Maybe roll around and do some dirty, filthy stuff with him? Then what? Show up at his apartment for post-mission coitus? Ludicrous.

Next thing it would be buying him gifts on his birthday. Or kissing him to see how many shades of pink he could blush. Iruka was definitely the sort to blush depending on the type of kisses.

Kakashi crushed the juice box in his hand forcefully, the cardboard squeaking, and tossed it over his shoulder, not waiting for the thunk of it hitting the bottom of a trash can. He shoved both hands into his trouser pockets and kept moving.

Sasuke had noticed.

It was so _stupid_ , but it had happened.

Kakashi wished now that he hadn’t paid so much attention to teaching his students to look beneath the underneath. _This_ underneath was private, damnit.

This was something Sasuke could weaponize somehow. Kakashi would have weaponized it if he’d been in the Uchiha’s place. What were listless shinobi if not complete bastards during their time off?

“Hmm,” Kakashi hummed as he strolled, fully aware he was already half an hour late to his latest General Intel meeting. His life was 70% meetings these days, with only slight departures for missions, eating, sleeping and toilet breaks.

He couldn’t _do_ anything about this Iruka thing. Not until he’d dealt with Sasuke.

He paused and got lost in thought for a moment. The great thing about wearing a mask was that when Kakashi pulled out his most evil of grins, hardly anyone noticed. He nodded to himself, mind set, and leapt onto the nearest awning and headed back to HQ, plan already fermenting in his mind.

* * *

“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto said, “You stay back while we spar. You’re still hurt.”

Kakashi was in a mood and hearing Naruto tell him what to do was grating on his nerves. Suggestions such as this, coming from the student most belligerent about his own well-being, were like telling a person to be careful after they’d already set themselves on fire.

“How _is_ your back, by the way?” Sakura peered at him. “The nurses said it looked pretty gnarly.”

“The nurses have loose morals,” Kakashi grunted. He leaned against the metal railing that circled the eastern training grounds. “Why are they talking about patients, hm?”

Sakura laughed, “Oh, sensei. If only you knew the things they whispered every time you showed up. You’d _laugh_.” She waved her hand at him as if he were a small child bothering her.

Kakashi wanted to feel affronted but he wasn’t certain what _for_ just yet. Give it time.

“You’re off missions for a while, eh?” Sasuke said, still wrapping his left hand. Naruto was making a mess of his own wraps. Would he ever learn?

“Godaime has said so, yes,” Kakashi leaned both elbows on the railing, resting his full weight for once. He was tired. Chakra-healing really took it out of him. He felt like he was walking through hip-high soup these days, back-and-forth between his home and the hospital for his daily check-ups.

“Hm,” Sasuke hummed, tying off the end of his wraps. Then he glanced up, “Maybe if you visit the Mission Desk someone will take pity on you.”

Kakashi narrowed his eye at Sasuke and ran his tongue over his teeth. He had a rule about sucker-punching his own students.

“If Tsunade-sama said no missions, the Mission Desk will know not to hand any out,” Sakura sighed. She was inspecting her shuriken for nicks and warping which would influence trajectory and speed.

“Yeah,” Naruto nodded. “There’s literally no one scarier than Iruka-sensei when he’s following the rules.”

“Psh,” Sakura crooked a brow at that. “ _No one_ scarier? I doubt that.”

Naruto went still and looked between his teammates. His face was blank, brows a firm line over his eyes. He looked like he’d faced death itself and come out barely breathing. “No one is scarier than Iruka-sensei,” he intoned gravely.

 _Hm_ , Kakashi wasn’t sure why, but that amused him immensely.

Sasuke was staring at him. Kakashi frowned and cleared his throat. “Hurry up, we’ve only got the grounds for an hour. You’re all getting slow.”

“Sasuke…” Naruto whined and walked over, his poorly wrapped hands looking more like a spool of loose ribbon and less like combat-ready padding. “Help.”

Sasuke flicked his hair out of his eyes and sighed loudly but did pull Naruto closer. “Dobe, this is stupid. What is wrong with you?”

“But you wrap them better than I can,” Naruto pouted.

Kakashi shook his head. “I can’t believe this is who I chose to spend my afternoon with,” he said, watching his students prep for their spar session. _God, they were slow._ “Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “While you’re slipping into your gowns, or whatever the pageantry is in aid of, I’ve got some suggestions for next time you all have to pretend to be adults in public with me again.”

“Eh?” Naruto twisted to look over his shoulder at Kakashi.

“What’d we do now?” Sakura didn’t even glance up. Kakashi sighed. Had they lost all fear of him? Gone were the days when _he_ was the scariest person they knew. Familiarity grew insolence, he now knew.

“The genin allocation ceremony the other day,” Kakashi said sharply. “All three of you were embarrassing.”

Sakura looked up, “ _Excuse me?_ ”

Sasuke was focused on wrapping Naruto’s wrists, and by the look of it, was taking his sweet time.

“First of all, Naruto,” Kakashi said, “As the Hokage-to-be you could have made more of an effort to present yourself as a person befitting your station. Next time you see a buffet table, I suggest you _don’t_ try to shove as much food in your mouth as possible. You caused a damn scene.”

“I didn’t know the spring rolls were so spicy!” Naruto cried. “And my tummy was feeling weird all day that day.”

“You had, like, seven rolls in your mouth because Sai was egging you on, though,” Sakura said.

“And you almost barfed in front of the graduates,” Sasuke said. “If one of the sensei hadn’t come to save you.”

“Listen,” Naruto fumed, “You think I planned that? I can’t see into the future.”

“Yeah, but you _can_ control yourself next time there’s free food, you fucking animal,” Sakura snapped.

Kakashi turned to her, “And you, Miss.”

She glared at him through her hair. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said snappishly. Being the only sane member of this team did put a lot of strain on Sakura, which meant Kakashi gave her a ton of leeway, but this had to be done.

“Exactly,” Kakashi hummed, “You didn’t do jack squat. You avoided talking to the academic and advisory staff the whole time we were there. Godaime had sent you as a representative of her junior associates, hadn’t she?”

Sakura scowled harder, “What the hell was _I_ going to have to say to a bunch of stuffy administrators? I work _medical_. ‘Anyone want their blood pressure tested?’”

“You also manhandled your own teammates like they were sausage meat ready for packaging,” Kakashi said drily, recalling the many slaps and perfectly-fired projectiles that had been handed out that day. Sakura had a fierce aim.

“These idiots?” she jabbed a thumb at Sasuke and Naruto. “Can you blame me? Taking them out in public was your _first_ mistake. The only place these two would look and feel comfortable would be in the zoo.”

Kakashi didn’t necessarily disagree, but he was working on something here. So he sighed dramatically and turned his head to the boys again. “And you,” he tilted his chin, catching Sasuke’s eye. “You caused a real stir, hitting on Raidou and Tenzou.”

Sasuke’s head jerked up. “What?”

“You heard me,” Kakashi said slowly. “Your behaviour. A bit out of line for a genin to be approaching senior jounin like that. Brazen.”

“I wasn’t _hitting on_ them!” Sasuke sputtered, gripping Naruto’s wrists in both hands. “That’s ridiculous! I was just _talking_. Socializing! Like we were supposed to. You _told_ me to!”

“I told you to mingle,” Kakashi said. “Not flirt.”

“ _Flirt?”_ Sasuke’s voice got shrill on the last consonant.

“Sasuke was flirting with Raidou-san?” Naruto blinked and shook his hands free. He inspected his wrappings. “That’s weird.”

Sasuke’s mouth flapped, “I _wasn’t_.”

“Hm,” Sakura sighed and put her shuriken away, and stared at Sasuke. “I mean, it did look kinda fishy. You sidling up to Raidou-san–“

“I didn’t _sidle.”_

 _“–_ and asking him a ton of creepy questions.”

“If you’re talking about the katana–“

“Oh _yeah_ ,” Naruto nodded, “You asked him if you could see his katana sometime, hold it in your hands. Weigh it in your palm,” Naruto snorted and immediately covered his laugh. “Oh man, you _were_ flirting.”

Sasuke’s face was fast approaching tomato red.

Kakashi smiled.

“I - but –“ Sasuke wavered then glared at Kakashi. “Did _they_ think that?”

Kakashi shrugged, “I’m merely pointing out things that were observed.”

“Raidou-san definitely won’t show you his katana now,” Naruto snickered, which got him a kick to the rump. “Oof! Ow!”

“That’s ridiculous!” Sasuke bellowed. “ _Flirting?_ I wouldn’t ever. I don’t even know h–“ he cut himself off with a strangle.

Kakashi would have bet 200 ryo that he was about to say he _didn’t know_ how _to flirt_.

“Stop laughing!” Sasuke hissed and pulled out a kunai. He pointed it at Naruto, and then at Sakura who was giggling behind her hands.

“I’m sorry, Sasuke-kun,” she snorted, which sent Naruto into wailing laughter. “It’s just… so _funny_. You trying to make small talk and instead alienating senior shinobi by asking them if you can shine their swords.”

Naruto bent over, howling now.

Sasuke’s face was so red he wouldn’t have gone amiss in a bowl of plums. “Today, you both die,” he growled.

Kakashi grinned behind his mask as the three shinobi splintered off into the training grounds, the dark blur of Sasuke dashing wildly after the cackling echoes of his teammates.

Now all Kakashi had to do was sit back and watch.

* * *

“Namiashi-san, sir,” Sasuke stood at attention. After a few days of surveillance and recon, Sasuke had timed his training just right and had managed to get to the shinobi locker room just as Namiashi Raidou was prepping to head into his own sparring session. 

The tokubetsu jounin turned, eyebrows rising. He was wearing a grey t-shirt and standard-issue uniform pants - getting ready, it seemed, to wrap his hands for close-combat boxing. He put the roll of fabric back in his locker and closed the metal door. The locker beside his was open, the door blocking its user’s face from Sasuke. This wasn’t the perfect place for privacy, but Sasuke hadn’t figured out a better way to do what needed to be done.

“Uchiha, right?” Namiashi said. “Kakashi’s kid.” He was very good at pretending he _didn’t_ immediately recognize the last remaining Uchiha who famously defected from Konoha and had unceremoniously reappeared at the gates of the village to atone for his shitty, murderous, teenage choices.

Sasuke nodded. “Apologies for interrupting you–“

“Nah, it’s okay,” Namiashi said, turning to face him fully. Two other ninja walked by, unconcerned.

“–But I wanted to explain my actions the other day, in the hall,” Sasuke kept going. He needed to get this over with.

“The other–?” Namiashi frowned.

“I wanted to clarify that I was speaking to you out of respect for your position. I hope I didn’t come across as impudent, and I wanted to make sure it was clear that I had – _have_ – no romantic or sexual inclinations toward you, I was merely trying to be social. Small talk is not my forte.”

The door next to Namiashi’s locker slammed shut with a _clang_ and Shiranui Genma’s head appeared over Namiashi’s shoulder. “The _fuck?_ ” he said, coming around to give Sasuke a shocked look.

Namiashi looked a little spooked but didn’t say anything.

“Hey pipsqueak, are you hitting on _Raidou?_ ” Shiranui-san said, his senbon bouncing between his lips. He too was partway through getting dressed to spar. It was true then, that you rarely saw one without the other.

“ _Genma_ ,” Namiashi rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“No,” Sasuke said calmly, “the opposite, in fact. I was made aware that my talking to you at the genin team assembly the other day might have come across as overly-familiar and that it could have been interpreted as sexual interest or –“ his mouth twisted with disdain, “– _flirting_. I came here to make sure that you knew it was not true. I have no desire to pursue you, Namiashi-san, though you are very handsome and considered a real ‘catch’ as the kids say.”

“As the kids…” Namiashi trailed off. He looked very perplexed.

“ _You’re_ one of the kids, kid,” Shiranui said, resting his one arm up on Namiashi’s broad shoulder. It was nothing if not a possessive move.

Sasuke tilted his head in acquiescence. “Understood.”

“Wait, hold on,” Namiashi put up his hands. “I’m confused. You came here to find me to tell me that… you’re sorry for talking to me the other day?”

“Absolutely not,” Sasuke said, “I _wanted_ to meet you, yes, but I may have been too forward. You are a venerated tokujou, one with whom I would like to learn from if I’m honest. But I am barely even your kouhai, and it was rude of me to approach you unsolicited like that. Your rank is much higher than mine and I was rude.“

Shiranui looked at him as if Sasuke was declaring himself an innocent bystander of war while covered head-to-toe in blood, knife in hand.

“Uchiha,” Namiashi said with a crooked smile, “I don’t have any issue with anyone talking to me. Why would I? What the hell is my rep with the kids?” Here he twisted to glance at Shiranui who was still glaring at Sasuke. “You getting this?”

“Yeah,” Shiranui said. “He said you’re hot. Duh.”

“ _Genma,_ ” Namiashi hissed. “Not helpful.”

Shiranui sniffed and lowered his arm. “Kid, you’re fuckin’ with us if you think this ain’t making you look like some weirdo stalker intent on kidnapping Raidou and having your way with his pretty mouth.”

“ _Genma!_ ”

Shiranui ignored his friend and continued to eye Sasuke.

Sasuke blinked. “Sorry. I–“ he hesitated. “–I’m not good with this stuff. It was just something that was brought to my attention. I felt I needed to correct any misinterpretations.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Well, that’s a hard fail, kid,” Shiranui snapped. “This is weird as fuck.”

“Genma, come on,” Namiashi sighed and rolled his eyes skyward.

“So someone ‘brought this’ to your attention?” Shiranui’s eyes looked past Sasuke, clicking his teeth, senbon poised outward.

Namiashi blinked and refocused on Sasuke. “Wait, yeah, hold on, someone _told you_ that you came across as a perv the other day?” Namiashi said, looking a little whiplashed.

“Something like that,” Sasuke murmured. He didn’t consider himself a _pervert._ Though if he were being judged by the company he kept…

Another shinobi squeezed by them and gave the trio a funny look. Sasuke realized belatedly that the enclosed space of the locker room was busier than when he’d arrived; not the ideal spot for weird sexual harassment clarifications.

“Who?” Namiashi’s eyes zeroed in on Sasuke like a hawk, “Someone’s obviously messing with you.”

“I don’t think it matters,” Sasuke said slowly, knowing full well that Kakashi’s payback would be tenfold if Sasuke just blurted out everything rolling around inside his head. He knew better than to ever mention Kakashi’s name as a source for _anything_ , be it intel or where to find the freshest pork buns before the shops opened. “I’m just here to clear the air. I have no intentions on your person, romantic or otherwise. Even if you are very tall and have nice eyes.”

Shiranui blurted out a stream of profanity, almost dropping his senbon.

Namiashi laughed. “Oh, you’ve been set up. And you’ve just realized, huh?”

Sasuke was silent for a moment. “Perhaps,” He said slowly.

“So what did this ‘person’ say exactly?” Namiashi asked, folding his arms.

Sasuke sighed, “They said I shouldn’t approach senior jounin such as yourself in social locales like bars or public events because it could come across as too informal and could be misinterpreted as a come-on.”

Namiashi cocked a brow at that. “Oh, _definitely_ a setup.”

Sasuke cleared his throat, “Normally I wouldn’t take such a thing so seriously, but you are someone I would like to work with in the future, Namiashi-san. Your achievements and skillset are something I would like to study, would like to learn myself. My katana work isn’t that well developed and I hear you are a master of the sword.”

Shiranui made a face of incredulity. “You _still_ sound like you’re _flirting!_ ” his voice was strangled.

“I am not,” Sasuke said slowly, face impassive. “I was told it would be improper to imply I was, not just because it is the truth, but also because I am now aware of your as-yet-unrequited interest in Namiashi-san. I don’t want to get in the way of your romantic intentions, Shiranui-san.”

Shiranui’s face went full apoplexy and he spurted out a series of aborted sounds. “What! You little–! I cannot–ridiculous! _What the f–_ ”

Namiashi’s cheeks were pink and he blinked, his brows furrowed, at Sasuke, then looked at Shiranui. “Genma’s my best friend, kid,” he said slowly, while Shiranui continued to sputter and turn red, hands flying around his head. “We’re not together like that.” He chuckled.

“I see,” Sasuke intoned. “Then I was misled.” Going by Shiranui’s expression, Sasuke had not, in fact, been misled. But he was wiser than he looked and knew not to poke that bear; again.

At least now he knew that he’d been set up by his supremely shitty sensei. Kakashi wanted Sasuke to look like a fool in front of the jounin he admired. Sasuke pursed his lips. _That bastard._

* * *

The bar was packed as usual and Iruka had to squeeze between two chuunin to get to the table his friends had colonized.

“Finally!” Asuma said, “We thought you got eaten by the mob.”

“Here, your stupid napkins you ordered,” Iruka sighed and threw the pile on the table.

“Thank you,” Genma said and pulled one free to wipe at the mess he’d made when he’d knocked over Raidou’s drink. “You’re too good to us, Iruka.”

“Hm,” Iruka flopped into his chair and immediately pulled the edamame closer. He split one open and popped the beans into his mouth. “Needs more salt,” he muttered.

“You’re a real grouch today, huh?” Kurenai hummed. He rested her chin in her palm and smiled. “The brats giving you aneurysms?”

“Every day is an aneurysm as a teacher,” Iruka said. “No, I’m just tired. Sorry if I’m being–”

“A bitch?” Genma supplied.

“A _grump_ ,” Iruka finished with a glare. Genma grinned wide, flashing a set of perfect teeth. He looked very pleased with himself for some reason and Iruka was going to find out why.

“Oh, Kakashi, you’re alive!” Asuma said suddenly.

Iruka stiffened.

Crap. He thought the man was still on a mission. Hadn’t he been? When did he get back? Iruka _knew_ he shouldn't have cut his Mission Desk hours this week.

“Hey,” came the familiar voice of Kakashi. Iruka looked up and behind to not be impolite.

Kakashi looked the same as always, slouchy and lazy.

“There he is! I’d heard you were home, my most esteemed colleague!” And Gai appeared out of nowhere like the green mist he was. He stood beside Kakashi and grinned wide. “Mission success, I assume?” he slapped Kakashi on the back.

Iruka didn’t miss the flinch. It was very well covered but Kakashi definitely jolted when Gai’s hand made contact. Iruka narrowed his eyes.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” Asuma said, leaning back in his own chair and resting his arm on the back of Kurenai’s. “Hey, you,” he said louder, tilting his chin at a table of very young chuunin. “Chairs. Two.”

The young shinobi didn’t hesitate and immediately two of them got up and carried their chairs over to the crowded table of jounin (and Iruka).

“Atsumi, don’t,” Iruka said, waving one of them off. “Please. Sit down and ignore these idiots.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Iruka-sensei,” Atsumi said with a smile. “It’s just a couple of chairs.”

They didn’t seem too bothered by what was happening, so Iruka relented as the chuunin moved the chairs to their table. Gai took the one on the end and the other was slotted in beside Iruka.

“Don’t do that,” Iruka hissed. “That’s so rude.”

Asuma laughed, “They didn’t have to do it,” he smirked.

Iruka rolled his eyes and watched as the chuunin just crouched at their table with their friends as if a jounin flouting some kind of power was totally fine.

“Asuma’s right,” Genma leaned forward. “These newbies gotta learn to say no.”

Iruka made a face and crossed his arms, slumping back in his seat. “You guys are terrible.”

The chair beside him screeched as it was pulled out and a body sat down.

Iruka blinked.

“Kakashi-san,” he said, trying to modulate his voice. “How are you?”

Kakashi settled into the chair, moving slightly slower than usual. “All’s well in the world,” he said blithely. He looked around for a waitress and when he caught one’s eye, lifted a finger in the universal request for beer. Then he turned back to look at Iruka.

Iruka felt his face warming. He cringed almost daily about their last encounter. Behaving like a drunk idiot wasn’t new to Iruka, but it was still awful to have to remember his own idiocy. He promised himself that he’d need to pull back on the public alcohol consumption if he wanted to preserve what was left of his dignity.

“Naruto has a message, sensei,” Kakashi said, pushing his chair back a bit, probably to give his long legs some room under the stupidly small table. “He says he can’t make Saturday, so you’ll have to postpone to Wednesday. And also he said he’s sorry.”

“Tch,” Iruka frowned and flicked his head aside. “That boy. Sometimes I swear he’ll avoid facing the smallest consequences of his actions while simultaneously looking the god of death right in the eye and saying ‘go on, cut my head off.’”

Kakashi tilted his head. “There was more to the message than meets the eye, then?”

Iruka sipped his drink, still scowling. “He’s avoiding me because I let him use my washer again and he obviously didn’t close it properly and my place got flooded. Came home to warped floorboards and a pile of wet towels and a sad sticky note.”

“Oh, another story to add to your memoirs,” Raidou chuckled. “The adventures of the last Hokage: a tragedy is eighty-three parts.”

“Written before the Seventh was executed by his most beloved sensei,” Genma added. “May his spirit be at peace.”

“Shortest Hokage rule in existence,” Raidou finished off with a snicker.

Iruka pouted. “He drives me insane sometimes. Now I have to redo my floors. Not something I ever planned on doing!”

“So he wasn’t even home when you got there? Just left a swimming pool in your kitchen?” Genma asked. “What a kid.”

Iruka rubbed at his forehead as though his headache could just be pushed into his brain mass. “Yes, a twenty-year-old kid. I love him, I do. But the urge to strangle him flashes by at least twice a week.”

“Only twice?” Kakashi hummed. “Surely one as well versed in Uzumaki shenanigans would have an itemized list on the most appropriate torture techniques available for when the time came.”

Iruka glanced at him. Kakashi was being funny.

“Do you ever want to strangle him?” he asked.

Kakashi shrugged, “Not really.”

Iruka didn’t believe him. No one who spent extended periods of time with Naruto didn’t want to wring his neck. Even Tsunade, who loved and adored Naruto more than anyone else, wanted him dead three times a week. The waitress appeared with Kakashi’s drink and he thanked her. Iruka watched as the man leaned forward slowly to pull his drink close. Iruka looked away once he realized what was happening.

“It’s fine,” Kurenai said. Iruka’s gaze flicked her way. “He drinks with us all the time.”

“What?” Iruka blinked.

“The mask,” Raidou said, “If Hatake minds you seeing, you’ll know.”

Iruka turned back and saw that yes, Kakashi had pulled his mask down to drink his beer. He didn’t know what to make of that, so he just stared like an idiot.

“You…” he said, “You don’t care if people see your face? I thought that was your whole thing?”

Kakashi sipped his beer, throat working, then licked his lips and put the glass down. “Well,” he murmured and pulled the mask back into place. “We’re backed up against a wall and I’m not facing the room. There’s no one around whom I wouldn’t _want_ to see my face. Plus drinking through cotton really isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. It gets all down your neck and _eurgh –_ unpleasant.”

“I can’t believe people think you’re some mysterious superhero,” Iruka huffed.

“Oh, did I ruin your illusions of me, Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi said and damnit, there was definitely a smug smile in there. He sat back again, but gingerly.

Iruka frowned. “Are you injured?” he said, turning in his seat to face the man properly.

Kakashi blinked slowly. “No.”

“Yes, you are,” Iruka whispered. “Where? What happened? Did you put it in the report?”

Kakashi was notorious for handing in the _worst_ mission reports ever, leaving gaps all over the place, gaps that hid whatever injuries he’d incurred, mostly. Once he’d limped into the Mission Office claiming no injuries when he clearly needed hospital care due to severe blood loss. He drove Iruka to literal madness some days. Iruka hated yelling at the injured, but some of them deserved the humiliation if it made them change their ways.

“I’m fine,” Kakashi sighed. “Just a little nick.”

“A _nick_ ,” Iruka said slowly.

Kakashi shrugged, “What’s a kunai in the back between enemies?”

“ _What?_ ” Iruka hissed. “Have you been to the hospital? Tell me you’re not walking around post-mission with a gaping wound.”

Kakashi laughed softly. “I am not, no.”

“You didn’t answer my question about the hospital,” Iruka said. “Do you need me to remind you of the bacterial infections most commonly found in stab wounds? Some people don’t clean their weapons, you know. Where were you? Rain? Suna? Bacteria growing in different climates can seriously inhibit recovery, not taking into account the travelling home under sweaty uniforms and flak jackets–“

“Iruka,” Kakashi pressed a finger to Iruka’s lips. “Stop.”

Iruka flushed red immediately when he felt the calloused finger against his mouth. The urge to _bite_ was so strong, he couldn’t explain it.

“Is he always like this?” Kakashi asked, staring down the table.

Iruka’s traitorous friends all nodded and said words in the affirmative.

“Always,” Raidou said.

“Yep,” Kurenai said.

“Nurse-maid Iruka,” Asuma said.

“Once he followed me to medical because he thought I might have had poisoning,” Genma grinned, his senbon glinting between his teeth. “Me. Poisoned.”

“Really?” Kakashi blinked at Iruka. “You thought the village’s most knowledgeable toxins expert was walking around _poisoned?_ ”

“Look,” Iruka said shrilly, pushing away from Kakashi angrily. “It’s not bad that I pay attention to my friends and their injuries! Genma could totally have been poisoned without his knowledge.”

“No,” Asuma shook his head.

“Not possible,” Kurenai said.

“Yeah, no,” Raidou sighed.

“I had a stomach bug that day,” Genma said. “Ate some funky karaage. Explains why I was green.”

“A stomach bug is surely a form of poisoning?” Gai said from the far end of the table.

“No,” Everyone else said in unison.

Iruka huffed loudly and sat back in his seat.

“I appreciate the concern, sensei,” Kakashi murmured. “In fact, I find it refreshing.”

Iruka peered at him from the corner of his eye. “You should have more concern for yourself, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi tilted his head like maybe he’d consider it.

“You better not be teaching your team your terrible habits,” Iruka said. “If Naruto comes home with a leg missing saying, ‘Oh, it’s fine, I’ll sleep it off’ I will drown you.”

Kakashi huffed out what must be a laugh. He pulled at his mask, revealing his wide mouth again. He leaned closer to Iruka.

“They’re not my team anymore, sensei,” he said.

Damn, but his voice was sexy. It had a low rumble to it that vibrated right through Iruka. “Well,” Iruka floundered, feeling his face warm up. “I mean, technically, no. But they still think of you as their sensei. It’s not like you ever took on another genin team.”

“Who would?” Kakashi said, letting the fabric snap to his chin, leaving his smile on full display. “After my three students, it’s a wonder I’m still alive.”

Iruka wasn’t sure if Kakashi was attractive. He certainly seemed to be, but then Iruka had a sneaking suspicion that he’d have found the man handsome no matter what, because of who he was. He sighed. Iruka couldn’t really argue with the man about his team. Kakashi did end up with the most volatile genins of their generation.

“I suppose,” Iruka said, staring at his own drink. He needed his cheeks to stop burning. “You get a pass on that one.”

“Ah, thank you, sensei. I’m happy you agree with me for once.”

* * *

Kakashi wasn’t a sloppy drunk, not like Iruka. He could drink and drink and nothing about his demeanour changed; typical jounin.

Iruka had learned his lesson, though, and abstained from having his third drink. He was level-headed and had his wits about him.

“That was fun,” Raidou murmured as they all tromped down the bar stairwell, the noise of all their footsteps echoing terribly around them.

“It’s not often we’re all home at the same time and look, no one’s in the hospital,” Genma said loudly.

Iruka pushed through the ground-level exit and out into the cool evening air. The rest of his friends tumbled out behind him, all in high spirits.

“We’re heading off,” Kurenai sighed, pulling Asuma’s arm around her shoulders. “I’ve got a mission with my baby genin tomorrow. First one!”

“Oooh,” Iruka brightened. “Good luck. I’m sure it’ll go well.”

“We’ll see,” Kurenai chuckled. “I made the mistake of letting Kiba train the kids last week and he may have taught them some shitty habits already.”

“Guaranteed,” Asuma nodded.

“Why did you get the smart genin team back then, huh?” Kurenai elbowed him. “Why did I get the feral child, the bug boy and the daughter of the most demanding clan leader in the village? Do you have _any idea_ how many ‘personal chats’ I had to endure with Hyuuga Hiashi regarding the status of his daughter’s training?”

Asuma shrugged, “What can I say? I’m an excellent mentor.” That got him a jab in the ribs.

“To be fair,” Raidou said drily, “I think Hatake’s team eclipsed yours in terms of difficulty, Kurenai.” The whole group nodded and agreed vocally on that point.

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, they’re great.”

“Absolutely,” Gai said, “all of our students are. And how they’ve all grown! My Lee, Neji and Tenten are all magnificent shinobi in their own rights.” He looked glassy-eyed about it. “Would that we could go back and relive their youths again.”

“I’d rather not,” Kakashi said.

“Well, whatever,” Kurenai waved them off. “I do need to get some rest. See you fools when we see you. Don’t die out there.”

“Don’t die,” the rest of them murmured. It was their standard farewell that had followed them through many decades of missions and battles and friendship.

“You going east, sensei?” Kakashi murmured as Iruka waved at his departing friends.

Iruka looked at the man. “Er, yeah. You?”

“East as well,” Kakashi nodded and turned on his heel.

 _Okay_ , Iruka was totally cool with this.

“Don’t get into mischief you two!” Genma yelled.

Iruka flushed, wishing it didn’t look as bad as it did. Kakashi was just walking towards the same district as him. They both lived in the east end anyway; apparently. Iruka actually had no idea where Kakashi lived.

“Ignore Genma, he’s drunk,” Iruka huffed and jammed his hands into his pockets.

“Mmm,” Kakashi said, falling into step beside him. “He’s very happy tonight.”

“Yeah, why is that?” Iruka frowned. “Something was definitely up.”

“Mm, I think he finally got into Raidou’s pants,” Kakashi said.

“He _what_?” Iruka rounded on Kakashi with wide eyes.

Kakashi nodded, “I’m guessing, of course.”

“Okay but your kind of ‘guessing’ is way better than my kind. More accurate, I’d say.”

“How so?” Kakashi cocked his brow in interest.

“Well, I just make stuff up in my head based on my prejudices and experiences with the people involved. I’m a terrible gossip,” Iruka said. “You seem more objective.”

Kakashi laughed, “You’re more observant than you think. After all, you noticed _something_ , right?”

“Yeah,” Iruka wove around a couple of teenagers arguing with one another about the best types of meat buns. The streets were still pretty busy. “I suppose. Genma was too… happy? Is that a thing? Should seeing my friend exhibit happiness really make me think something’s wrong with him? That doesn’t seem right.”

“Hn,” Kakashi nodded. “He had a hand on Raidou’s thigh for most of the evening.”

“ _No_ ,” Iruka gasped, thought back on their evening, then grinned. “Oh wow, maybe they finally did it. Genma’s been waiting for that his whole life, I think.”

“It’s a miracle Raidou didn’t reciprocate until now,” Kakashi sighed and they crossed the street. “The man is alarmingly obtuse at times.”

“He needs to get laid,” Iruka said, dodging a family of kids with their very frustrated mothers screaming behind them.

“Oh?” Kakashi said.

“Yeah,” Iruka shrugged, “Raidou’s not good with dating. He holds out for too long because he’s too polite. He deserves a good blow job or two for being a nice man. A good man.”

“A good man does deserve a good blow job,” Kakashi slowed his walk to match Iruka’s pace, “Sensei, I’ve never heard you talk like this.”

“What?” Iruka scowled, “Like I can’t talk about sex? I can’t be a sexual person? You _know_ I’m the one who introduced the annual venereal disease and sexual education curriculum for all shinobi, right? Because idiots were out there having sex with everything that moved with zero understanding of the repercussions.”

“That was your idea?” Kakashi seemed genuinely surprised. “Huh.”

“I could have used a talk like that when I made chuunin,” Iruka said, annoyed. “I had a lot to learn back then. Don’t want shinobi thinking they’re above sexual good graces or condoms for that matter.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi hummed, “I take it youthful Iruka was a bit of a wild child?”

“Something like that,” Iruka rubbed his palms over his hair. “I’d perfected the back alley blowjob for sure.” He sighed loudly and tugged at his ponytail to tighten it. “Gone are those days anyway.” Kakashi stopped walking. “I remember a time in my life where I was so focused on hooking up I even went commando on missions. How _ridiculous_ was I?” Iruka shook his head. He then realized he was talking to himself. He turned. Kakashi was a few paces behind him, bent over, hands on his knees as if winded.

“Kakashi-san?” Iruka blinked and walked back to meet him. “What’s wrong? Is it your injury? Do you need anything?”

Kakashi exhaled loudly, slowly, then stood up straight.

He looked at Iruka, placing his hands on his own hips. “I needed a moment.”

Iruka’s brow furrowed, “Do you want to take a detour to the med clinic? It’s closer than the hospital.”

Kakashi laughed, a soft huff of a sound. “No, I just had to process the visual of you giving blowjobs in alleyways. Sensei, please warn me beforehand. I have a weak heart.”

Iruka blushed as he recalled their conversation. _Shit_. Maybe he _did_ have too much to drink. Here he was flapping his mouth like an idiot again, not being professional at all. Sometimes he forgot Kakashi was the shinobi-taichou. “Sorry,” he fumbled, “I wasn’t–I shouldn’t be saying things like–“

“Oh no,” Kakashi inhaled slowly. “Please continue. Tell me more about how Iruka-sensei sucked off strangers every night. Sounds lovely.”

“Hey,” Iruka’s anger blossomed even as he became more embarrassed, “Never _strangers_ ; only friends. Acquaintances.” He fumbled for more words, “I mean not colleagues. I mean lovers. Whatever!”

Kakashi chuckled and waved Iruka on. “Of course, my mistake. Let’s keep going.”

“I’m gonna shut up now,” Iruka huffed.

“Why?” Kakashi said, “There’s certainly no need to. I am _very_ intrigued, sensei. _”_

Iruka looked at Kakashi in the dim street light and saw a glint in his eye. _Shit._ Was Kakashi _flirting_ with him? Iruka was not prepared for this. He stuttered and wavered for a moment, unsure how to continue. He cleared his throat loudly and coughed, covering his mouth with his fist. He needed a moment to think. “What is happening?” he eventually asked voice a croak.

“Hmm, nothing,” Kakashi said nonchalantly. He tilted his head. “Would you _like_ something to happen?”

Iruka’s face felt like it was so red it was going to burst a few blood vessels. He sure hoped it wasn’t obvious. _This_ he hadn’t expected, not in a million years. Was Kakashi making an open offer? Was he laying out a teasing opportunity to see if Iruka would bite? _Should_ Iruka bite? God, he _really_ wanted to. But what was on offer? Should he even engage with such a ludicrous idea?

What if he was reading into something, and what if Kakashi was just messing with him? If he made some kind of move on Kakashi, if he responded favourably, it might backfire. He didn’t think he could manage any more embarrassment. He’d almost maxed out his quota for the year.

“What kind of something are we talking about?” he said carefully, skeptically. It felt like they were negotiating.

Kakashi kept loping along, apparently unbothered by the way he’d thrown Iruka’s night into a tailspin. “Maa,” he sighed, “it occurs to me that two singularly independent shinobi who lack any attachments could feasibly keep each other company. Should the moment arise.”

Iruka blinked. They turned down a side street. His apartment building came into view. Kakashi knew where he lived because he often came to pick up Naruto for training. Iruka felt at an informational disadvantage.

His brain was a carnival rollercoaster on fire at the moment. Every synapse was screaming, shuttling shrieks from one brain cell to the next at the possibility of Kakashi _maybe_ propositioning him.

“I-“ he started, then swallowed. His throat was dry. Phew, it was _hot_ around here, wasn’t it? Iruka’s clothing felt heavy, constricting. “–what?”

Kakashi stopped walking and turned to him. He inhaled, eye closing for a moment. He then looked around, saw no one in the area, and pulled down his mask slowly, like a tease. “I sounded like Gai,” he frowned, frustrated. It was very cute to see Kakashi annoyed at himself. “Too wordy. I prefer getting to the point, sensei. What I’m saying is,” Kakashi’s mouth was very distracting; his smile had a tilt to it, a leer, even. “All this talk of your sexual exploits, of you with your many conquests–“ he licked his top lip, the peek of tongue catching Iruka’s gaze. He grinned. “I’m open to that, _sensei.”_

 _Holy fuck,_ how could he say that word like that? Iruka swallowed, his blood rushing immediately south and pooling between his hips. “I–“ he licked his own lips. Kakashi watched him. _I only mentioned blowjobs and now you’re talking about fucking. I want in. I would die to, yes yes yes._ “I have work in the morning,” he blurted.

Kakashi’s mouth twisted a little. Disappointed. “Is that a no, then?”

“Well,” Iruka faltered. Shit, why wasn’t he screaming the word ‘yes’? _What was wrong with him?_ When Hatake Kakashi propositions you and implies there may some dick-sucking in your immediate future, you do not _deny him!_ “It’s not… a no?”

Kakashi blinked slowly. He took a step forward. Iruka swallowed. Oh no, this was too much. Kakashi had _presence_. He could fill a room by simply standing up straight. He was only an inch or so taller than Iruka and yet right now he seemed to be _gigantic._

“I mean,” Iruka said, trying to keep his voice steady. Kakashi didn’t wear cologne. He was too good a shinobi to do that, but he did smell familiar. When had Iruka become familiar with his scent? “I have work in the morning. And it’s very late already. I have to get up early to prep my education plan as well, which takes forever. I was supposed to do it this afternoon and got derailed by my damn drowned kitchen, so… so, so…” he trailed off weakly.

“So you don’t have the extra time,” Kakashi said, still warm and tall in front of Iruka. “To fit me in.”

“Oh my god,” Iruka covered his face, he tried not to laugh but a snort sprung free. “That’s so _dirty._ ” He pulled both hands down, smiling like a fool. “You really pick your words, don’t you?”

“I seem to pick bad timing as well.”

“Well,” Iruka tilted his head from side-to-side. _Just fuck your work!_ He thought angrily. _You can miss one day of perfect teaching!_ Iruka chewed his bottom lip. _But then I’ll have to stay late after Mission Desk duty to finish my school papers and that’s also on top of the end-of-month reporting the Godaime needs by Friday!_

Kakashi smiled. “Maybe another time then?” he said gently, clearly seeing the anxious thoughts behind Iruka’s eyes.

Iruka’s stomach dropped with disappointment. He nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I mean yeah. Please. Another time.”

Kakashi sighed and looked up at the stars. He had a sharp jaw and such pale skin, Iruka wanted to press his lips there and just feel how warm he’d be. _God_ , what a thought to have!

“All right,” Kakashi said, looking down again. “I’ll take my dirty thoughts home with me.”

“Okay,” Iruka exhaled. He was both relieved and horribly disappointed by his own responsible attitude.

Kakashi’s hand came up. He gripped Iruka’s chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I look forward to seeing you around, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka swallowed, which was all Kakashi must have needed to step back, giving Iruka his breathing room. He saluted and tugged his mask back into place. Iruka watched the man turn and leap up onto a low-level rooftop and continue further eastward, a blur in the night sky.

“You idiot,” Iruka scowled and smacked the side of his own head. “What is _wrong_ with you!”


	3. Chapter 3

Kakashi was having a rough week and needed cheering up.

His team was mad at him because apparently, Sasuke had blabbed about the Raidou thing. Then Raidou himself actually came poking around, asking if Kakashi was being a mean sensei to his poor baby birds, and Kakashi had to explain the concept of age and how all three of his idiot students were adults now and he didn’t need to infantilize them. Raidou found that particularly amusing before dropping the bomb that Tsunade didn’t want Kakashi doing any missions for another month. The gods were punishing him by keeping him idle.

Add to that the fact he’d been booked into 300 more meetings this week and Kakashi was sure he was about to combust.

He walked into his office (yes, the taichou was allocated a space all to himself so he could stare at the wall in silence) and slumped into his chair, wishing it was the kind that could swivel.

He hummed and looked at the tower of paperwork he still had to review.He shifted in his seat, still feeling uptight and pent-up.

Damn that Iruka. Not for denying his advances or anything. Damn him for making Kakashi think about their encounter over and over again, relishing in the tension they’d spawned.

The night after he’d left Iruka, Kakashi had gone home hornier than he had in _years_. For once he’d languished in the feeling of tightness in his groin, a sensation that he usually dealt with quickly and efficiently. That night he’d decided to let it simmer and use the morning to have a nice long, languorous shower and give himself an above-standard hand job. Dragging out his frustration for one night would have amped up the sensation nicely had he not been completely diverted by a stupidly early morning message to report into administration.

This is why he hadn’t wanted this job. Being taichou meant having his schedule thrown off because rogue missing-nin were tripping the perimeter wards and he had to address them. And for the following four days, he’d lost every possible opportunity to blow off steam because his life was just _like that_ now. He was _aching_ for it now.

He knitted his fingers together and rested his hands on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling of his office. He had maybe twenty minutes before his next meeting.

Sounds from outside the open door drew his attention. He looked up, recognizing the voice.

“Let me check if he’s free now,” Haruichi said, her voice cool and professional. Then her perfectly coiffed hairdo and face made an appearance in his doorway.

“Knock knock, taichou,” she said, rapping her knuckles against the doorframe. “Umino-san is here to see you. In regards to the chuunin exam preparations.“

Kakashi waved his hand, “Let him in,” he said. “I can spare a moment.”

“He’ll see you,” she said, turning away and disappearing. Kakashi knew he’d been assigned an assistant because it would streamline his life, but if he was honest, every time he saw Haruichi working away at her desk, he had no idea what she was doing. She definitely had all her fingers in the messenger network pie, which was good, but what else was he paying her for if not to keep people away from him?

Iruka stormed into his office, face already bent out of shape, his perky ponytail bristling.

Kakashi smiled to himself.

Ah, seemed his little note had been received. _Excellent._

“You want to explain this?” Iruka stomped closer and dropped a wad of papers on Kakashi’s desk. They fit in nicely with the other unread piles of crap littering the tabletop.

“Good afternoon, sensei,” Kakashi smiled, eye curving. “What can I help you with?”

Iruka looked as tightly strung as a brand new bow. “This!” He leaned forward and splayed his hand on the sheets of paper across the desk and flicked his arm, throwing a handful into the air. Kakashi watched one flutter slowly down, down. He looked at Iruka. He was clearly quite angry going by his madman approach to office organization. Iruka was humming with anger.

Kakashi sat up straight and pulled the sheet of paper Iruka had dragged forward, the real focus of his ire. It was decorated with serial-killer style yellow highlighter ink, slashes driving through a paragraph about halfway down.

“What?” Kakashi said. He looked up.

“Your comments on the chuunin exam budget!” Iruka yelled. “It says here you don’t think any after-hours team-building activities are needed. ‘A waste of _money_ ’ apparently!”

“Ah,” Kakashi sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table. “Yes. We don’t need that.”

Iruka looked like he was physically trying to hold back his rage like his fists would go flying if he didn’t restrain himself. His shoulders were tight and pulled up under his ears. “ _Why?_ ” he snapped. “The whole point of integrating the chuunin exams is to build camaraderie between the hidden villages. To build relationships, we need the participants to spend time together, get to know one another, build trust! For future generations!”

Kakashi gave a sideways nod and got to his feet. “The genin are going to fight one another, sensei. What benefit is it to expose our best candidates to opponents who might attempt to take them out early?”

“ _What is wrong with you!_ ” Iruka barked. “Not every kid out there is going to kill their opponents before the exam! That’s cowardly and not in the spirit of the whole thing! We’re trying to foster kinship with the other villages so we _don’t_ end up with a generation of shinobi hell-bent on killing people they don’t know or understand!”

Iruka’s cheeks were flushed from anger and _boy_ could his voice carry. Kakashi wouldn’t be surprised if Tsunade could hear him a floor above them.

“And you said in your notes it’s for ‘budgetary reasons’!” Iruka was _fuming_. “ _I_ reworked the budget based on last week’s feedback about weaponry and housing options. I made sure to allow for these events to still go on because _no one had objected_. I calculated every single line item in that document. So don’t start pretending we’re spending above our budget, you complete total and utter–“

“Shinobi-taichou,” Kakashi supplied coolly.

Iruka faltered, then shut his mouth, still radiating rage. “It’s a _miracle_ no one’s succeeded in actually killing you,” he said, “You insufferable bastard.”

Kakashi walked around his desk and went to close his door, the _click_ ensuring it was somewhat more private inside his office.

“So,” Kakashi turned and strolled back to the desk. He bent to pick up Iruka’s papers and stacked them, tapping the edges on the wood to line them up. He held out the wrinkled mess. Iruka scowled and took the papers back. “You’re angry.”

“Damn right, I’m angry,” Iruka hissed. “Thinking you could just slip that into the notes as if no one would notice.”

Kakashi smiled and shrugged. “But _you_ did.”

“Of course I did!” Iruka bellowed. “It’s my job to keep this event on course! And it’s my job to ensure the safety of the genin from _all_ villages. You think saying they can’t socialize because you’re a paranoid freak will look good to the other Kages? If we imply the kids can’t socialize because of safety concerns then what’s stopping them from assuming the worst from us, the host village?”

Iruka went to the bin by the door and threw his papers in it. He stomped down on the messy pile, forcing it to fit.

Kakashi settled his ass against his desk’s edge and crossed his arms.

Iruka turned back, finger already pointing. “You have to take that back; before the meeting this afternoon. I don’t want to have to justify something that went uncontested for _weeks._ It’s important for the village and it’s important to do the right thing.”

“Alright,” Kakashi said.

Iruka stomped up to him. “You _have_ to listen–oh,” he blinked, “wait, you agree?” he looked flummoxed by this turn of events.

“Yes,” Kakashi said slowly. “If you say so.”

Iruka frowned, clearly perplexed. “So I can cut your part? That part?”

“Be my guest,” Kakashi said. “I trust your judgement, sensei.”

Iruka narrowed his eyes. “I still want to strangle you.”

“Most people do,” Kakashi hummed. He reached out a hand and caught the bottom of Iruka’s flak jacket between his fingers. He tugged, hard.

Iruka jolted forward, eyes widening.

“What–“ he blurted.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look very attractive when you’re angry?” Kakashi murmured, dragging Iruka in to stand between his legs.

 _Oh, there’s the deep blush coming from behind the ears._ Kakashi liked that one.

“What are you doing?” Iruka said as calmly as he could.

“Nothing,” Kakashi murmured, leaning in a little. He was slouched, so Iruka’s face was a little higher than his at this angle.

“Haruichi’s going to think I killed you,” Iruka said, frowning. “It went quiet too quickly.”

Kakashi laughed. God, what he wouldn’t give to just be able to bend this man over right now and do unspeakable things to him. But no, there was a method to this madness.

“We still need to follow-up on our last conversation, sensei.”

Iruka swallowed. “Ah. Yes, I suppose we do.”

“What are you doing this evening?” Kakashi hummed, trying to keep his hands to himself.

“Um, nothing,” Iruka said. “Nothing I can’t cancel, I mean.”

“Hot date?” Kakashi grinned.

“No,” Iruka sputtered. Kakashi loved the way his confusion was tipping over into arousal. “I was supposed to call contractors to price out my kitchen floor repair.”

“Ah,” Kakashi nodded. “So your apartment is out of commission still?”

“Well,” Iruka scratched at his cheek nervously. “No. It’s good. It’s fine.”

“Well then, how’s nine?” Kakashi said.

“At _night_?” Iruka spluttered, then realized how stupid he sounded. “Yes. Nine. Good.”

“I’ll feed myself beforehand,” Kakashi said, voice dipping. “No need for dinner.”

“Ah,” Iruka nodded, looking pained. “It’s like that is it?”

Kakashi pulled his mask down. “You can say no. You always have the option.”

Iruka’s eyes tracked over his features. He sucked in his bottom lip, considering. “I’ll say yes this time.”

Kakashi grinned. “Excellent.”

There was a knock at the door which made Iruka jump about a foot in the air. He scrambled back across the room like a cat that had had its tail stepped on.

“Taichou, your next meeting is in five minutes,” Haruichi said through the wood. “You cannot be late for this one or Hokage-sama will fire me for not keeping you in line.”

Kakashi sighed and scowled. “Damn,” he muttered. He got to his feet. Iruka was attempting to pull himself together. They hadn’t even _done_ anything and he still managed to look frazzled. Kakashi approached him slowly, trying not to spook the man. Once close enough to count Iruka’s lashes, he leaned in.

“It would be very improper of me to kiss you while on duty, wouldn’t it sensei?”

Iruka scowled, his cheeks just blossoming even redder. “When have rules ever stopped you?”

Kakashi tilted his head and conceded. “True.”

He waited a moment, gazing at Iruka’s lips - they looked very soft and plump. He’d had so many thoughts about how he’d do this but at the moment, it seemed much simpler. He tilted Iruka’s chin up with one hand and just kissed him. It was short but sweet, with enough promise to carry them both through the rest of the day, he hoped.

“Mm,” Iruka gasped when Kakashi pulled back. “Wait, one more.”

“For the road?” Kakashi blinked, amused.

“Yeah, whatever,” Iruka said and yanked him back in for a deeper, dirtier version of the previous kiss. When Iruka slipped him some tongue, Kakashi laughed. He’d _definitely_ chosen well.

Iruka pushed him away with both hands. “Okay! Nine pm. My place.” He furrowed his brows. “We can finish what we started here.”

“Indeed,” Kakashi hummed with a smirk, his blood thrumming already at the thought.

“I meant the yelling,” Iruka hissed. “You complete idiot!” the last words were suddenly many decibels louder. “Make sure you get the revisions to me before three!”

Kakashi smiled and stepped back, pulling his mask up. _Smart man._ He walked Iruka to the door and swung it open. “I’ll do what I can, sensei. Thank you for dropping by.”

Iruka stormed out of the office. “Haruichi-san,” he nodded as he passed her desk.

“Have a good afternoon, sensei,” she said.

Kakashi leaned against the doorframe and watched Iruka storm off like some mad man on a mission. His much-gossiped-about behind looked pert as ever.

“You’re going to be late,” Haruichi cut into his thoughts. “Shizune-san already sent a warning message.”

She handed him a piece of paper that had the words _No time for your laziness!_ scribbled on it. _God_ , Shizune had the worst handwriting. _Doctors._

“I’m not _lazy_ , I’m tactically efficient,” he muttered, scrunching the paper up and lobbing at Haruichi’s small trash can.

“After this meeting, you have your four o’clock with the school administration and then your six o’clock with Ibiki-san and Shikaku-san.” Haruichi dug through her own (much more organized) desk and pulled a folder free. “These are your notes for T&I, compiled and edited. I’ve highlighted talking points.”

“Hm,” Kakashi huffed, taking the folder. He watched her continue writing on whatever document it was she was editing on his behalf.

“Haruichi,” he said, folding his arms. “Was there ever a point in which you might have intervened after hearing Iruka-sensei threaten my life?”

“Are you saying you can’t look out for yourself, Hatake-san?” she said, not looking up from her notes.

“What I’m saying is,” he said, standing upright again, “it was noticeable, your lack of initiative.”

“Hm,” she said, “It happens so often, sir, the threats. Plus, it was Iruka-sensei this time.” She looked up at him through her wide, round spectacles. “I’m certain that if he was here to kill you it would probably be warranted. No point in stopping him.”

“Uh-huh,” Kakashi snipped and turned and went back into his office. “I don’t disagree with your point, but I find your brand of loyalty disappointing.”

“Understood, sir,” she said blithely, clearly unconcerned.

* * *

Iruka was so pissed he couldn’t think straight.

“Ridiculous man!” he hissed, slamming his front door open. He threw his overstuffed satchel across the room and heard it thud against the sofa. He closed the apartment door behind him and muttered curses while he tore his flak jacket off in a snit.

“Cannot believe the _audacity!_ ” He tossed his flak jacket at the wall rack. It slumped onto the pile of shoes by the door. Iruka grumbled and sat down on the lip of the genkan to unstrap his shoes.

Naruto’s spares were still piled up with his which only succeeded in reminding Iruka that his kitchen was a disaster from the washing machine incident and it probably wouldn’t be fixed for a while.

“Fucking damnit, shit fuck,” he hissed and stomped his way to the kitchen nook where, yes, the hardwood flooring was still warped and awful. “Goes to a meeting just to defy all my requests.” He slammed the kettle onto the stove and flicked on the heat. “That bastard.”

He was, naturally, talking about Kakashi, the man who had in one moment kissed him and a couple of hours later metaphorically _fucked_ him in a budget meeting.

When Kakashi had agreed to let the chuunin exam social program go through, Iruka should have known better than to let his guard down. Of course the fucker had shown up (late) and pointed out discrepancies in the planning procedures and workback schedule. Iruka would have kicked his head in had he not been making absolute sense, pointing to errors and missed details that could have, eventually, messed up the chuunin exam planning.

“I hate it more when he’s right!” Iruka yelled at no one.

He rapped his fingers against the counter, waiting for the water to boil.

There was a knock at the door. He gritted his teeth and went to answer it, expecting a horny, unapologetic jounin slouching in his doorway.

“ _What?_ ” he barked, swinging the door open.

Naruto shrunk back. Sasuke was behind him.

“Oh,” Iruka blinked and relaxed. “Naruto. Sasuke.”

“Sensei, is this a bad time?” Naruto asked. “We can come back.”

“No, no, it’s fine. What do you need? I just got home.”

Naruto glanced at Sasuke, then grinned. “Here!” he pulled out a scroll from his back pocket and held it out. “I wanted you to approve my first mission scroll, sensei!”

Iruka stared down at the scroll. “What?”

“We went to the Mission Desk but you weren’t there,” Naruto said with a laugh. “Wanted it to be you the first time.”

“Dobe…” Sasuke sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He looked very tired.

“I don’t follow,” Iruka said, taking the scroll. It wasn’t even sealed. He unrolled it and read the (very minimal) contents. “Says… you completed a D-rank… to tidy the Hokage’s office…?”

“Yeah!” Naruto crowed proudly.

Iruka looked at the boy and frowned, deeply worried for Naruto’s sanity.

“He’s never submitted a mission report before,” Sasuke said, understanding Iruka’s confusion. “He wanted you to be the first person to sign him off for it. It’s the only mission Shizune could scrounge up, seeing as how Naruto works office hours these days.”

Iruka blinked. “You’ve… never done a mission report?” Well, that explained a lot. Iruka had always wondered why he only ever saw the other three members of Team 7 and never Naruto. “Why?”

“Ah, that Kaka-bastard lied to me years ago and I believed him!” Naruto said, scowling. “I think he wanted to keep all the reporting to himself, sensei. He got to look cool at the Mission Desk every time we did a great job.”

“Hm,” Sasuke hummed darkly. “That checks out, actually.”

Naruto turned to him with wide eyes, “It does? How?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sasuke rolled his eyes. He patted Naruto on the head.

Iruka smiled. It was so nice to see the two boys together again. There really had been a dark, empty hole following Naruto around all the years that Sasuke had been gone.

“Well, okay, I guess that makes sense now,” he said. “But I’m not on duty, Naruto. I can’t just sign off on reports out of the office.”

“Aw, no!” Naruto whined.

“It won’t be considered official,” Iruka said, handing the scroll back. “But I’m back at the desk tomorrow afternoon.”

Naruto pouted. “Okay. I guess I can wait one more day.”

Sasuke rolled his head back and exhaled sharply. He must have been hearing about this for ages. That’s what friendship was. “Okay, are we done here? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, _fine_ ,” Naruto snapped, tucking his scroll back into his pocket. “But I’m paying this time.”

“Whatever,” Sasuke huffed, half turning away. He waved. “Good night, sensei.”

“Good night, boys,” Iruka smiled. “Get home safe.”

“Oh, we have plans, sensei!” Naruto chuckled. “Tonight we’re going drinking with the others. Fingers crossed Kiba’s sister’s out tonight as well.”

Sasuke smacked Naruto’s head.

Iruka sighed. “Naruto, don’t be mean to Sasuke.”

“I’m not!” Naruto rubbed at his scalp. “I’m trying to help him! Maybe once he gets laid, he’ll pry that stick out from his– _gurk!_ “

Sasuke had grabbed Naruto’s shirt collar and was dragging him away choking and spluttering.

Iruka shook his head and watched them walk down the balcony corridor. It was late. He shut his door and pressed his forehead to the wood.

What was he going to do about them? Sighing, he turned the lock and went back to his teakettle, which was only just starting to whistle.

He stared at his tea options. He was still angry. He didn’t want tea. He wanted a beer or something. Maybe sake.

 _Shit._ He still hadn’t yelled at Naruto about the floors. Damn that kid for working him like a pro!

He headed into his living room, intent on throwing himself down for an anger nap and _shrieked_ when he found a person sitting on the sofa.

“The fuck!” he yelled, immediately going for his kunai. Kakashi was leaning over to read a magazine left on the small kotatsu. Iruka didn’t let loose the kunai, though his heart thundered in his ears from the adrenaline spike. “What is _wrong with you?”_ he hissed. “I could have _killed_ you.”

Kakashi looked up. “Hm? Oh, I doubt that. I didn’t want to disturb your little chit-chat, so I let myself in.”

“I have _traps_ ,” Iruka hissed, clenching his kunai tightly. “At every window.”

“Oh, do you?” Kakashi got to his feet and arched his back in a stretch. “Fascinating.”

“I hate jounin so much,” Iruka snapped and put his kunai away. If he was going to kill the man, it would be with his bare hands.

Kakashi wandered around the kotatsu, hands now in his pockets. He took his time, looking around, taking in Iruka’s tiny home.

“So,” he said. “It’s nine o’clock.”

“No,” Iruka said sharply, “It’s ten-thirty and I’m only getting home now because _you_ completely derailed my exam meeting by pointing out inaccuracies that my team and I had to fix before the new programs were sent out to the other villages.”

“Hmmm,” Kakashi hummed and bounced a little on the balls of his feet. “Would you have preferred I _not_ point out problems, sensei?”

“I would prefer you _die_ ,” Iruka snapped, knowing he sounded insane. Kakashi walked over, ever so casually. Iruka noticed he was still wearing his shoes, which was annoying. “I’m not interested.” He said, folding his arms.

Kakashi paused. “Oh?”

“Yeah, plans change.”

Kakashi considered him, then came closer. “You sure? You seem awfully pent-up, Iruka-sensei.”

“I’m not _pent-up_ ,” Iruka scowled, “I’m angry!”

“Maa, but I could help bring you back down, perhaps,” Kakashi said. “I know a lot of … techniques.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Iruka scoffed.

Kakashi reached out and took Iruka’s hand.

He had such nice fingers, Iruka noted. Long and bony, his palms square and dry. They were calloused, much like every shinobi’s, and scarred, mostly around the knuckles.

“You’re not wearing your gloves,” Iruka said dumbly as Kakashi twined their fingers together. Kakashi’s hand was larger than his. He swallowed.

“Observant,” Kakashi rumbled. He lifted Iruka’s hand to his lips and pressed his mask to Iruka’s knuckles. Such a simple act shouldn’t have made Iruka blush and feel a whoosh in his belly, but it did.

“I realized something,” Iruka said, trying to not fall for whatever this was.“Today, when I came to see you.”

“Hm?” Kakashi looked at him.

“You knew I’d find that edit note about the budget, didn’t you?” Iruka said. “You knew I’d come looking.”

Kakashi watched him for a moment, then lowered their hands. “Very observant. You’re full of surprises, sensei.”

“You’re not even going to hide the fact you tried to purposely piss me off?”

“Well,” Kakashi pulled at Iruka’s arm. “Why hide the obvious? Though it’s not exactly correct that I _simply_ wanted to anger you.”

“You’re crazy,” Iruka frowned harder.

“I, more importantly, wanted to _see_ you,” Kakashi murmured, now very close.

Iruka opened his mouth to retort, then closed it.

“Yeah,” Kakashi chuckled. “I know. Shocking turn of events.”

“If you just wanted to talk to me, you don’t have to be nefarious about it,” Iruka said. “It makes you seem conniving.”

Kakashi grinned, “But I am conniving.”

Iruka chewed on his bottom lip, considering what was happening here.

“Am I perhaps helping you reconsider your ‘no’?” Kakashi said.

“Maybe,” Iruka said. He _was_ pretty hard up if he was honest. The last week of wandering around the village - with the thought ‘Hatake Kakashi might actually want to have sex with me’ blaring like a foghorn in his head - had been quite something. Like an out-of-body experience.

He’d lost focus several times during many, many meetings. Especially ones where Kakashi got to play the big bad taichou and ordered his jounin around.

Two large warm hands looped their way around Iruka’s waist.

“You really want to do this?” Iruka asked, already leaning in for more contact.

“Yes,” Kakashi said plainly.

“You don’t want to reconsider, maybe find more… fitting alternatives?”

Kakashi sighed and dropped his forehead onto Iruka’s shoulder. “Sensei, if you ask me to wait, I will, but I think I might expire.”

“Why?”

Kakashi looked at him, then tugged down his mask. “I have held off looking for you because I knew you were busy this week.” He took Iruka’s hand and pressed it to his chest. Then slowly, he pushed the hand down, down, down.

“Oh,” Iruka flushed when he felt Kakashi’s interest in real-time. “I see.”

“Do you?” Kakashi smirked.

Iruka squeezed. Kakashi huffed. Iruka smiled. “Can you take off the hitai-ate? Or is that staying on?”

“How about if I take off everything, will you too?” Kakashi said.

Iruka felt a warmth blossom in his belly, tightening in his groin. “I think I can accommodate that,” he smiled and leaned in for a kiss.

* * *

Kakashi was starting to feel bad, which was unacceptable in his line of work. He’d come to the bar at lunchtime not because he needed food or company. No, he’d come here looking for an annoying speck of a genin who was causing him undue distress.

“Bingo,” he said under his breath when he spotted the familiar shock of black hair. He sauntered over to the tall table near the window. He eyed the spread of food laid out for the lone occupant and sighed.

“Yo,” he said.

Sasuke looked up, then furrowed his brows even while his mouth was full of steak. “What do you want?” he grunted.

“Is that any way to greet your lovable sensei?” Kakashi leaned an elbow on the table and looked around the packed bar. “Your favourite, most endearing sensei?”

“Hmf,” Sasuke snorted.

Kakashi turned back. “You’ve turned my two other children against me.”

Sasuke nodded, then swallowed his mouthful. “You deserve it.”

“Why?”

Sasuke shrugged. “You embarrassed me. They didn’t like that.”

“I did no such thing,” Kakashi said, sounding affronted. He was lying, of course, but he was also a bit of a sore loser.

Sasuke looked at him through a veil of bangs. “I didn’t tell them to get mad at you or ignore you,” Sasuke sighed. He sat up straight and put down his chopsticks. He flicked his hair out of his eyes. Kakashi didn’t miss the way the table of girls nearby fluttered into titters at that.

 _This kid_. _Oblivious as ever_.

“I just told them what you did, is all,” Sasuke said. “Not my problem if they got mad about it.”

“I haven’t admitted to anything yet.”.

“Right,” Sasuke burped and tapped his fist against his chest. “Well, it was shitty. Don’t do it again.”

Kakashi blinked slowly. “You’re not angry.”

Sasuke shrugged. “I was initially. But it’s too dumb to care about. You wanted me to embarrass myself in front of jounin I look up to. Fine. Done. Over.” Kakashi looked at Sasuke, the double-vision of the child he met so many years ago overlapping with the man before him.

Here was Sasuke, sitting all by himself, something that seemed a regular occurrence, minding his own business, and not holding any grudges. As if he shouldn’t be mad at literally everyone in Konoha, Kakashi included.

“Hm,” Kakashi said.

When he’d tried to rally his team for training they’d all fled in different directions. Naruto had screamed very colourful insults at him while fleeing. Sakura had given him her best dead-eyed gaze and told him that what he’d done to Sasuke was juvenile and not becoming of his station. Ouch.

When had his kids grown into responsible adults? _When?_

“Why’d you do it?” Sasuke asked. He stared Kakashi down.

Kakashi waved his hand in a circle as if that explained his very warped mind. “Well. Because.”

“Was it because I really embarrassed you at that genin ceremony thing? Because you’re taichou and I keep forgetting?”

Kakashi blinked. “What? No.”

“Hmmm,” Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “Then the only other reason I can think of was that I figured out you like–“

“Shppppp–“ Kakashi held a finger up to his own lips in warning. “Careful what you say next.”

“Oh my god,” Sasuke shook his head in exasperation. “ _That_ was the reason? Why? What did you think I was going to do? Blackmail you?” Kakashi waited too long to answer and Sasuke’s brows shot up. “You _did._ You thought I was going to blackmail you, or something.”

“Well,” Kakashi sighed. “Yes. I would have.”

“You’re insane,” Sasuke said. “ _So_ you have a hard-on for someone? Who cares? What was I going to get with that information anyway? It’s not like he reports to you. I don’t think anyone would fucking care.”

Kakashi cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the table while he collected his thoughts. Looking at it now, it did seem a little overboard to assume the worst, but then Sasuke hadn’t seen how vicious the jounin in Konoha could get when a good, chewy piece of gossip got into their hands. It would have been mayhem for Kakashi to be _gossip_. Good thing he hadn’t chosen to kidnap Sasuke and drop him off in Sunagakure’s widest desert.

“And yet you kept poking it,” he said finally, reminded of all the comments Sasuke had made.

“Yeah,” Sasuke leaned in. “Because maybe you two _should_ fuck and get it out of your system. Or fall in love, or whatever. I’m not a monster. I want you to - excuse the grossness - _find happiness_ too. It’s not like _you_ were ever going to do anything about it. You punk-ass bitch.”

Kakashi hated that Sasuke was actually making some sense. “I hope you tell people you inherited your brains from me,” he said. “But not your insults.”

Sasuke stared him down. “Look, if you like Iruka-s–“

“Zippttt!” Kakashi hissed. He _really_ didn’t need the hordes of ninja in the bar to overhear this. Sasuke might not have thought to weaponize the information, but these wily bastards would take it and _run_. Even if only for free beer to keep it quiet.

“–if you _like him,_ ” Sasuke pressed on. “Then do something about it. Stop wasting _your_ time _and_ mine. You’re probably all inside your own head about it. Trust me, nothing in there is gonna help. Our brains are mush.”

“When dd you become such a wise sage, Sasuke-kun?” Kakashi said.

“When I destroyed everything I ever cared about,” Sasuke said plainly. “After… a lot of things happened. I realized I still had time. Time to make up for my mistakes and time to try to be happy for once. It’s not easy. But it-“ he shrugged awkwardly, “- might be worth it, if I can figure it all out.” 

Kakashi’s heart took a tiny dip inside his chest. Why on earth had he grown attached to his gremlins? This one especially.

Sasuke coming home had been one of the greatest moments in recent memory for Kakashi. It had been a moment in time that was fraught with anger, and distrust, and concern and fear. But to Kakashi, that moment he saw Sasuke at the gates, surrounded by sentinel shinobi, just standing there covered in dirt with his wide eyes tired and silently crying out for help – well, Kakashi had cracked a little. A lot.

One of his idiot birds had gotten lost on the road of life and had finally come home. Kakashi still believed he bore the blame for Sasuke’s leaving, for Itachi’s history, for a lot of things he couldn’t go back and change.

He’d played the role of the diligent taichou, bringing Sasuke in and interrogating, imprisoning and keeping watch over him. But really, Kakashi couldn’t have been happier. Sasuke home safe and sound had been something Team 7 had wanted for a very long time. He’d never, not even for a moment, blamed Sasuke for what happened. What was an Uchiha to do when he grew up the way Sasuke did? Hell, shinobi in general were all pretty messed up and Kakashi was no different.

Kakashi pinched his nose while he considered Sasuke’s words.

“Then,” he said slowly, looking at Sasuke properly. “I might owe you an apology. I could have picked a smaller, less embarrassing prank. Like filling your bed with chocolate pudding.”

Sasuke looked at him, considering. Then nodded. “Okay.”

Kakashi didn’t need to ask for more. He understood. He was forgiven, just like that.

“Maybe you’ll take your own advice,” he murmured, standing tall again. “About relationships.”

Sasuke frowned.

Kakashi waved a finger in a loop. “Figure out that weird crazy thing you’ve got going on with Naru–“

“Bzzzzt!” Sasuke zipped his fingers through the air so fast he almost created a katon. “Shut. _Up_.”

Kakashi smirked. “Hm. Interesting. You know I hadn’t confirmed that just yet, but thank you for doing so for me.”

“Ugh,” Sasuke smacked his palm to the table. “You’re such a bastard!”

Kakashi smiled. “You had to learn from someone, kid.”

* * *

Kissing was definitely something Iruka liked, judging by the way he was mauling Kakashi at the moment. He was intense, kissing deep and hot and tonguing into Kakashi’s mouth like he wanted _in._ It was _extremely_ hot.

When Kakashi had originally considered Iruka as someone he _might_ want to hook up with, he had absolutely imagined Iruka as a big kisser. He was very glad to know he’d guessed correctly. Especially since he had considered a lot of _other_ things as well and was excited to see which fantasies were going to make it into their freshly exciting escapades.

Kakashi was very happily surprised by the domineering authority Iruka wielded as well. He was starting to suspect he had a bit of a penchant for being ordered around.

It had been three days since their last little adventure and Kakashi was back at Iruka’s apartment, morning meetings be damned. After last time, he’d wandered around in a bit of a haze, still a little drunk off his much-needed release. Initially, he’d decided he’d play this thing by ear, be cool. Unfortunately, his brain was sick and his body dumb and so he really just hoped for whatever he could get at this point.

“Sit,” Iruka said, pushing Kakashi away and yanking his own pants down.

Kakashi did as he was told. He sat down on the sofa, enjoying the show. Iruka had beautiful brown skin that stretched over his ribs and arms, highlighting his trim and toned frame. At the moment, he was gathering up Kakashi’s clothing that was strewn around the room. He dumped the lot on a small stool and turned back to Kakashi, whose eyes travelled slowly down Iruka’s body, over his boxer-briefs and down his muscular legs.

The thing with sleeping with shinobi was that they were all built strong in some way or another. It went with the trade. So while Kakashi wasn’t surprised to find Iruka had a fit body, he was definitely impressed by the champion-bull-like legs.

Sitting on Iruka’s brown sofa in just his underwear made Kakashi feel horribly vulnerable, but he didn’t need to pull his weapons pouch close just yet.

“Look at you and your long legs,” Iruka purred, coming closer. He pushed the kotatsu away with his foot, freeing up more room.

Kakashi had legs, yes. He was aware. They were long, sure, and pale and lazily splayed, inviting.

He wondered whether blowjobs were on the table for the evening. Just looking at Iruka’s hard dick in his underwear was making Kakashi salivate. How _long_ had it been since he’d done that for someone else? He couldn’t recall, not when Iruka’s naked stomach was so close.

“Oof,” Kakashi grunted as Iruka slung a leg over his lap and sat down. He wasn’t exactly petite.

Iruka wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him. Kakashi finally got his hands on all that glorious skin and rubbed his palms up Iruka’s back, tugging him in close, closer.

Iruka whined when their cocks met. He shifted. Kakashi licked him, tasting more and more.

“You have a naughty mouth, sensei,” he murmured. “I suspected as much.”

“Oh shut up,” Iruka huffed out a laugh. Kakashi’s hands gripped him around the waist.

“I did,” Kakashi smiled into him. “And I was right.”

“You like being right,” Iruka said, curling his fingers in Kakashi’s hair and tugging.

“Hm,” Kakashi leaned his head back, his left eye still closed. “Do that again.”

Iruka did, yanking a little harder this time.

“Oh, yes,” Kakashi sighed. “Another thing I guessed right. Good at manhandling.”

“How long have you been making up ideas about me in your head?” Iruka said. He shifted on Kakashi’s lap. Kakashi’s dick throbbed. He was _so_ in dire need of release, it was no joke. If Iruka kept rubbing up against him like that, it would be over too soon.

“I have many thoughts,” Kakashi said, sliding his fingers into the back of Iruka’s underwear. _Oh, the ass on him_. He squeezed, “too many thoughts, actually.”

“Avoided answering my question,” Iruka chuckled. He sat up on his knees and let Kakashi slide more of his hands in, down under his ass. He exhaled sharply when Kakashi’s fingers ran between his cheeks and it sent a jolt of electricity right down into Kakashi’s dick.

“Fuck,” Kakashi hissed into Iruka’s shoulder. “I already regret this.”

Iruka tensed.

Kakashi looked up at him, “I mean. I regret the way you’re absolutely going to break me.”

“I won’t,” Iruka said softly.

“Right,” Kakashi pulled Iruka’s underwear down as far as they would go. He massaged Iruka’s ass, just enjoying the softness, the curve, the muscle.

“I want to suck you off,” Iruka whispered.

Kakashi _squeezed_ with nails this time.

“Oh,” was all he could get out, trying desperately not to blow his load already. “I see.” He sounded pained.

Iruka laughed. He sat up, pulling away. “Too much too soon?”

“Maybe,” Kakashi let his head fall back and inhaled slowly.

“We can go multiple rounds if you like,” Iruka said. “I’m generous like that.”

Kakashi cracked open his grey eye. “Elaborate.”

“Well,” Iruka shifted on his lap. He tickled his fingers down Kakashi’s chest and stomach. Was he _trying_ to drive Kakashi insane? “How about I blow you first. I can go fast if you want. That’ll take the edge off. Then maybe some other stuff,” he waved a hand in the air as if that explained everything, “then round two later.”

“Other stuff,” Kakashi murmured. He watched Iruka’s face as a curious hand slipped into _his_ underwear, freeing Kakashi’s straining cock.

“Yeah,” Iruka smiled. “You can watch me prep. I have some very funtoys in the bedroom and this new lube I’ve been meaning to try.”

Kakashi swallowed as a hand slowly squeezed up and down his cock. Iruka watched his throat work with a glint in his eye.

Kakashi considered the offers in front of him and made a quick decision. He wanted this to last, no hasty hand jobs like last time for either of them, no thank you.

“I like that you’re negotiating still, sensei,” he said. “I agree to your terms.”

Iruka grinned. “I thought you might.”

* * *

Kakashi should have known that whatever yelling match was going down in the Mission Office had to somehow be related to Iruka.

He walked in, ignoring the lineup and was surprised to find Sasuke in the room as well.

“He’s not fit to fight for Konoha, everyone knows it,” a jounin, Hanamaki, was barking. He pointed at Sasuke. “It makes me sick every time I see people just ignoring the problem and letting him act like he’s one of us. It's a disgrace. He is a disgrace.”

Sasuke just stood there, blinking.

Iruka was halfway across the Mission Desk, his face red with anger.

“And like _I_ said, Hanamaki-san,” Iruka snapped. “If you don’t shut up I’m going to lob you right out this window.” He inhaled. Everyone else took a step back. “Who do you think _you are_ talking to Sasuke like that? Who are you to call judgement on anyone? As someone who rarely gets assigned anything higher than a C-rank because of your track record, I’d say you need to be careful at whom you throw stones.”

“Iruka-sensei,” Sasuke said. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Iruka said, looking around the room at the handful of shinobi watching. “Anyone who has ever taken even a moment to talk to and get to know Sasuke here would know he is a man of his word. He is an excellent shinobi, a good person and if you do not have the patience or kindness in your heart to empathize with his experience and understand we are not all the same, we do not come from the same story, then I pity you. You cannot call yourself Leaf if you cannot grow on the same tree as your fellows.”

The crowd shifted.

“Hanamaki-san,” Iruka turned back to the man who had insulted Sasuke. “You disappoint me. You would disappoint your brother if he were here to see this. I thought I taught you better.”

And by _damn_ , that seemed to cow the young jounin.

“Now get back to work,” Iruka barked at the room. “Sasuke, excellent work. Mission success. Here’s your next one.”

Kakashi watched as the lines reordered and everyone got back to it. He couldn’t describe the feeling in his chest. It was… pride, perhaps? Joy? Who knew?

He cleared his voice. “Hanamaki-san,” he said, voice vaulting across the room. Half of the shinobi turned and immediately stood at attention.

“Taichou!” Hanamaki saluted him. He looked sweaty now. “Sir.”

“Come see me in my office. When you have a moment.” Kakashi said as he wandered through the group, trying to get to the desk.

The message was clear.

Kakashi hated the implications of favouritism he always had thrown at him regarding his team, but today he couldn’t care less.

Only a stupid ninja would get caught with his pants down while insulting one of Kakashi’s idiot baby birds.

“You causing trouble again?” he muttered as he approached Sasuke.

Sasuke shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Hm.”

“What, were you looking for me?” Sasuke said, tucking his new mission scroll away in his satchel.

“Actually, I had a document for the sensei here to review.” Kakashi pulled out his own scroll and slid it in front of Iruka. “For tomorrow’s meeting,” he winked.

Iruka blushed and pulled the scroll closer to inspect. “Thank you, Hatake-san.”

When Kakashi and Sasuke exited the room, Sasuke continued to peer at him like he was a fish that had grown a human face.

“What?” Kakashi said while they walked.

“That was so weird,” Sasuke murmured.

Kakashi raised his eyebrow in question.

“You and him,” Sasuke sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “But whatever, I don’t want any details ever.”

“And you will never, ever get any,” Kakashi said and they continued on their way.

* * *

Watching water boil never got more exciting, did it? Iruka yawned and shifted his balance, his sleep pants sagging on his hips. The yellow light above the stove cast a warm glow over the small ceramic pot he had waiting.

He threw in the scallions and a handful of spices and swirled them around with a wooden spoon.

He pulled his hair back, yanking at one of many hair ties he always kept on his wrist. See, people didn’t understand just how often they snapped. Everyone wanted to think Iruka had soft, silky flowing locks that draped down his neck and shoulders, but in reality, his hair was far from smooth. It was thick and coarse and stuck up every which way no matter how much he combed or conditioned it. He got this from his dad, one of the great Umino characteristics: insane hair. It had to be tamed every morning or else Iruka could end up looking like he’d wrestled a cactus on the way to work.

He hummed as he cut up tofu into small cubes, smiling at the memories of how many times he’d done this very same thing.

“Mmm,” came a soft hum from behind him and two long, pale arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Iruka gasped. “Careful! I’ve got a knife in my hand.”

Kakashi nuzzled at his nape and behind his ear. “You going to cut me with _that_ tiny blade?”

“Listen you,” Iruka waved the knife in the air, “I can do a lot of damage with this. Don’t mess with me.”

Kakashi snickered and pressed himself to Iruka’s back. He was still shirtless; warm and solid and sleepy. Iruka felt heat ripple up his neck from the spot where Kakashi was pressing his mouth.

“What are you whipping up here, chef?” Kakashi asked.

“A quick vegetable soup,” Iruka said, scraping the pile of tofu to the side of the cutting board. He pulled the peeled and soaking potatoes closer. “For Naruto. He’s been working long hours again. A treat.”

“Ah,” Kakashi hummed, his hands roving down Iruka’s stomach and up under his rumpled Konoha-emblazoned t-shirt. His hands were so big, his fingers so long, it was going to drive Iruka to distraction.

“Stop,” he whined softly, “I’m going to accidentally cut off a finger.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Kakashi murmured. He did halt his hands, though. The water on the stove was at a rolling boil now. Kakashi released his hold when Iruka moved to put his fresh ingredients into the pot.

“You always make Naruto-kun’s lunches?”

Iruka shrugged, “I used to; not so much anymore. I like doing it, though. It was a way for me to sneak vegetables into his wheat flour and salt diet.”

Kakashi huffed out a chuckle and shifted about the tiny space. “You know he’s still complaining about how you and Godaime-sama are ganging up on him and forcing him to eat properly.”

“Well,” Iruka rolled his eyes, “He can think what he wants as long as he keeps eating better.”

Kakashi watched him stir in a spoonful of miso. Iruka tried not to ogle Kakashi but it was excruciatingly difficult. When a tall, handsome man lounges around your apartment, half-naked, like a sunlit cat, you can’t not look, can you? Kakashi was rangy, his physique so different to Iruka’s. He was really beautiful. Iruka swallowed, caught up in the fantasies that continually plagued him these days. Now that he got to witness this very thing more often, he was becoming a little obsessed.

He cleared his throat, “I think we have to tell people soon.”

“Hm?” Kakashi blinked up at him, his left eye closed as always. With his messy grey hair flopping to one side, he somehow looked even more relaxed than usual. For a man who slouched around the village like some ne'er-do-well, that was saying something. “About our -what do we call it - _entanglement?_ ”

Iruka’s cheeks felt hot, “Yeah.” He stared at the soup.

Kakashi inhaled then exhaled slowly. “I was actually thinking the same thing. Unfortunate as it is.”

“Unfortunate to let our friends know we’re–that we’ve been–?“ Iruka faltered.

“Fucking?” Kakashi supplied with a wolfish grin that shot right down Iruka’s spine.

“That we’re together,” Iruka pressed. “You ecchi idiot.”

“It’s not unfortunate for them,” Kakashi murmured, folding his arms and leaning a bony hop against the counter. “Unfortunate that it’s not our dirty little secret anymore.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s dirty secret, though,” Iruka sighed.

“Oh, no,” Kakashi pushed back onto his feet and came over to wind his arms around Iruka’s waist. “My phrasing was bad. I meant _my_ dirty little secret is that I get to think about you in my bed when no one knows I ever _had_ you in my bed.”

“You’re so dirty,” Iruka said.

“You know what you signed up for,” Kakashi nuzzled him and nipped at his skin, making Iruka curl his neck to the side. “I’m not the only pervert here. Do you think I can sit in my boring daily briefings and _not_ think about the way your tongue can–“

“Stop,” Iruka flushed right up to his hairline.

Kakashi snickered and pulled away. “However, yes, I’m glad you brought it up. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about us, about this, but I’m constantlydistracted.”

“By what?” Iruka said. He plopped the potatoes into the water with a handful of salt. He dusted his fingers on his pants.

“By this.” A firm hand grabbed at Iruka’s ass and squeezed it.

“For the love–“ Iruka swatted at Kakashi angrily even if he knew the man would dodge easily. “Don’t blame me - pervert!”

Kakashi grinned, batting away Iruka’s hands until he caught both of Iruka’s wrists in a firm grip. “I have my reasons,” he said slowly, leaning in. He really was so achingly handsome it had Iruka’s breath catching in his throat. “Originally I wanted to go public because Sasuke sussed us out.”

Iruka blinked. “What? Sasuke?”

“Yep,” Kakashi sighed.

“But how?” Iruka asked, genuinely intrigued. He ran through all possible reasons for Sasuke to figure this out. They’d been very careful. His mind tripped over scenarios before landing on the worst option because, of course, his brain was a gremlin determined to give him relentless anxiety sweats. “Oh no, he did not _see us_ that time at your office-“

Kakashi shook his head. “No, he did not find me blissfully railing you against the wall in the tower.” Kakashi looked wistful. “Oh, what a day that was. Made my afternoon briefing much more tolerable.”

“Something that will never happen again,” Iruka’s face was so hot from embarrassment, anger and memories of said encounter, he didn’t know what to do about it except flap about. He bumped his fists against Kakashi’s sternum.

“Ah-ah, sensei,” Kakashi clicked his tongue, “Never say never.”

“So then how?” Iruka freed up one wrist so he could turn the stove down a bit. When Kakashi kept trying to loop him into an octopus hug, Iruka huffed and got free. He turned to face the stove properly, lest he burn his home down because he’d been getting handsy.

“I’m not sure,” Kakashi murmured.

Iruka frowned, “So he just…guessed? That seems implausible. I thought we were pretty good at keeping it hidden.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about the how,,” Kakashi pressed in again, tugging Iruka up against his warm, firm chest. “We don’t have anything to worry about with Sasuke, but Genma’s still sniffing around. We could probably get out in front of it.”

Iruka narrowed his eyes. This was the man his stupid heart had decided was the one, without confirming with him first, of course. “You _cannot_ be smug about this. Also stop avoiding my question about Sasuke.”

Kakashi grumbled, “Maa, you make me sound like such a bastard.”

“Well,” Iruka sighed, turned his head, and pressed his forehead against Kakashi’s cheek. He deflated. “I might as well accept this. Should I be expecting blackmail material in the mail too? Is he going to send out flyers to my superiors? ‘Umino Iruka, using his body to get in with the taichou. What a disgrace.’”

“No,” Kakashi squeezed him tight. “I taught Sasuke better than that.”

Iruka stirred the soup slowly. “I know you did,” he murmured. “He’s a good boy.”

“Am I a good boy?” Kakashi leered.

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you are. Most of the time you’re just bone idle and a pain in administration’s butt.”

Kakashi hummed, pleased with himself. Iruka had learned over the past few weeks that Kakashi definitely had some praise kink buried under all that mystery and hair.

“Naruto’s so much happier with Sasuke back,” Iruka murmured.

“Aren’t we all,” Kakashi said.

“It must have been hard for you,” Iruka said gently. “It was for me and I’m not his mentor.”

“Hm, I’m not sure I was really any good a mentor as people say I was,” Kakashi said, his voice low. He rubbed his lips against Iruka’s skin. He was surprisingly a very tactile person, always holding on or wrapping Iruka up in bed with him. It wasn’t stifling, somehow.

“You were an excellent mentor,” Iruka said, “Considering the circumstances.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi rumbled, voicing his disagreement. “I failed Sasuke in particular. I was so focused on Naruto, so focused on watching the Kyuubi, protecting Minato-sensei’s son that I forgot about the Uchiha right in front of me.”

“No,” Iruka wanted to turn around and face Kakashi but he knew it would be better if Kakashi didn’t have the attention. He so rarely spoke about things like this. “I wholeheartedly disagree.”

Kakashi was silent.

“He’s good and he’s kind,” Iruka said gently. “The real markers of a great shinobi aren’t always how skilled they are at completing missions. Compassion goes a long way.”

“Hm,” Kakashi hummed.

Iruka sighed. “I had him come show off for the newest students at the academy, did I tell you? Needed some pros to show the little ones what they could become.”

“No,” Kakashi said, interest piqued.

“Yeah, he was very good with them, if a bit… stilted.”

Kakashi laughed.

“But,” Iruka went on, stirring the soup slowly. “For someone whom you think you failed, he certainly takes after you.”

Kakashi pulled back but kept his arms around Iruka’s waist. Iruka twisted to look into his eyes. “I hope he doesn’t take after me at all, it would be a wasted effort,” Kakashi said.

“Well, too late for that,” Iruka said with a smirk. “Being part of the Uchiha clan made Sasuke a natural for the katon-category jutus. You’d think he’d be showing them off all the time, and yet he’s all about the electric variety instead. Did you ever notice that?”

Kakashi’s arms dropped from around Iruka, “No.”

“It’s true,” Iruka nodded.

Kakashi came around the side to look at him properly. “Sasuke’s an excellent katon user,” he murmured. “Always has been. I didn’t even teach him half of those moves because his family had done so from an early age.”

“Maybe,” Iruka shrugged, “but the only super flashy jutsus he was willing to show the kids were the Rasengan and Chidori." The signature Hatake specials were only taught to Kakashi’s students and weren't as common as outsiders thought. "Plus I know he always uses them in the training grounds with Naruto, who always complains about lightning burns taking longer to heal than anything else. Sasuke most certainly favours electricity over fire. Very strange for an Uchiha, don't you think?”

Kakashi looked at him, both eyes open, his Sharingan slowly turning. “I didn’t realize.”

“Well, now you know,” Iruka smiled broadly, happy to have been the one to mention it. “You two are more alike than you think.”

"Don't tell him that," Kakashi murmured, rubbing at his hair. 

Iruka watched him fondly, wondering, like he always did, how he'd gotten here to this moment with this man. He turned the stove down to it’s lowest setting. The soup could wait a little longer.

"Oh, I'm almost 75% certain he wouldn't mind," Iruka chuckled before wrapping himself around Kakashi. He smiled. “You're not all bad."

"Such compliments, sensei," Kakashi murmured, leaning in to press his lips against Iruka's. "I'm almost tempted to think you like me."

Iruka laughed and twined his fingers in Kakashi's very messy hair. "What a ridiculous thought, Kakashi-san." He used tongue this time.

"Mmm, yes. Ridiculous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story and thank you for the kudos and comments. They are very much appreciated. :)


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